Human Desire
by Ashardalon125
Summary: Marhawa did not quick go as Bindi expected. Instead of getting her revenge, she was instead caught red-handed. Being held by the BSAA, she must struggle with her own ideals, as well as her humanity, all while trying to keep control of her close friend Nanan. In the midst of it all, Chris Redfield and the other members of the BSAA must learn to deal with their ward.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: We've had a trio of fairly noble and good character become infected with the virus, so I figured it was time to unveil the last, less noble one, now that Damnation is out of the way. For those who do not know, the events of Marhawa Desire take place after RE: Damnation, and actually after RE:REV2 as well but before the cutscene at the end where Chris goes to China. It happens only a few months before Chris' mission in Edonia, and marked the first usage of the C-Virus outside of the labs.

Also, do note there are a couple of details that are slightly different in this story, like the status of Ricky's uncle, as well as the specific timeline of events near the end of the manga. This is in part due to a lack of an official english translation for the latest chapters, and the lack of availability. I have expanded upon the material to fit the story.

Chapter 1

Chris wasn't sure what to think when he had her brought in.

The girl lay unconscious in the lab, her dark skin a contrast to both her white uniform and the sterile environment. She seemed perfectly normal, aside from a few bloodstains from where she had assisted with the elimination of the B.O.W.'s.

Reports had quickly shown that it was a new virus. Chris sighed; only a little bit ago, his own sister had been the subject of an experiment of yet another new virus. Luckily, both her and her friend had survived, and the cure was already in production, but it couldn't mean anything good to have another one crop up so quickly. The last one before Phobos had been almost five years ago.

The boy who had called them in was one Ricky Tozawa. His instructor had been an affiliate of theirs, and it was under his advice that the boy had contacted them. Sadly, only Ricky had been alive by the time they had arrived.

While Bindi had been unconscious, he had relayed the story of what had happened to them. Several red flags had cropped up when he talked about Bindi, not the least being her owning a crossbow capable of killing infected in a private school. As a precaution, they had isolated her in the medical ward. Chris made a mental note to thank their Eastern Branch for the services later.

Looking up from his report, Chris observed the girl. Tests performed while she was unconscious confirmed the presence of the mystery virus in her bloodstream, but it evaded all attempts at analysis. With time, they would crack it, but they didn't have that time at the moment. As he waited, the source of the infection was still out there.

His grip tightened on the file, and he set it down. They had set up a barricade around the academy to contain the infection, but it was a small comfort. The dense jungle meant that there was always the chance something could slip out. Additionally, they didn't know enough about the virus to know the limits of its mutations.

Chris was snatched from his thoughts as the system told him that Bindi was coming back to awareness. The other guards noticed, holding their weapons as they waited out of view. If they could resolve it without violence, he would try to.

Bindi stirred, opening her eyes. Groggily, she sat up, brushing aside her long brown hair as she looked around. Chris noted she was quite clearly confused. "Hello? Where am I?"

"Hello," Chris responded, speaking through the intercom system. Bindi turned her head, looking at him suspiciously through the glass. "You are at the BSAA's Eastern Branch HQ. We brought you in after the incident in the underground maintenance area."

Bindi seemed to pause, sizing him up for a moment. Eventually, she bowed slightly, her expression growing demure. "Thank you."

Chris held back a frown at the sudden shift in behaviour. "I wanted to ask you a few questions. Would you be willing to cooperate with us?"

"I will try and help any way I can," Bindi promised, a gentle and composed smile on her lips. She folded her hands together, almost instantly adopting her student president posture. _Very in control for someone who was just threatened by zombies_.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he responded automatically, opening the file in front of him. "What do you remember from before arriving here?"

"Ricky and the others wanted to go into the maintenance areas in order to try and track the infection. I knew the school's designs pretty well, so I decided to come with in order to help."

"Reports indicated you were armed with a crossbow. Where did you obtain it?"

Bindi was silent for a moment as she regarded him. Finally, she smiled slightly. "I did, didn't I? I got it from one of the old displays. I admit it was poor form for the student president to use a weapon, but given the circumstances, I think it was necessary."

Chris highly doubted that; the weapon was too advanced to have been an antique, not to mention she had several bolts on her. She had gone in prepared to fight, not just with something she had scrounged. Even more concerning, an artifact like that would have been noticed as missing.

 _It's too early to begin accusing_ , Chris noted, keeping his thoughts to himself. "So after you joined with the Tozawa investigation, what happened?"

"Well, we went down and encountered some infected staff. Unfortunately, a few of our group were infected in the attack," Bindi explained, pausing as she recalled those lost. Chris could sense she actually cared very little for the missing men. "Ricky and I thought we had seen the person causing the infections, but lost track of them. I went after them, and that's all I remember. Tell me, did Ricky bring me here?"

Chris regarded her for a moment. A small portion of her did seem genuinely interested, but he figured it would be better to keep the boy's role quiet. "We received a call about infected individuals. Students were able to point us in the direction of your party and we found you shortly afterwards."

"I see," Bindi noted flatly, her voice unwavering. Even so, he could see her smile drop slightly, almost disappointed.

"Witness reports state that you displayed an unusual level of skill dispatching the infected. Do you have former experience with them?" Chris inquired.

"No sir," she responded immediately with a polite decline of her head.

"Do you have former weapon experience?"

Chris noticed that Bindi paused longer than normal, seeming to contemplate her answer. Her head hung a little bit, and her grip tightened. "A friend of mine taught me once."

"Does this friend have a name?"

"Sorry," she responded with a bright smile. "I'm afraid I can't tell you. They would get in some trouble for knowing about that. Not exactly a value of the school, you know?"

"I see." Chris was unconvinced, but filed it away for later. He needed some form of leverage or connection. Something to get her to open up. "Sounds like your school has some problems."

"I wouldn't-" Bindi started, but seemed to bite back her response. There was something she wanted to say, but was holding back from. "It's not perfect."

"Care to share?" Chris asked, concern in his voice. Even if he suspected Bindi of being involved in some of those problems, if something was wrong, he would have some words about it.

"It's a bit...controlling, you could say. Mother Gracia asks a lot from her students." The way she mentioned the Mother caught Chris' attention. There was a venom in her voice. It would have been hard to notice for the untrained, but he knew he had found something.

"Seems like you have some issues with her. Is she hiding something?" Chris asked, noting the slight edge of a smile on Bindi's face. _Definitely something there_.

"Sometimes perfection has a price." Bindi's facade had fallen a little, her smile turning sarcastic and bitter. "No one wants to go to a school with problems. Not with how much it costs."

"Was money a problem?"

"Only for some," Bindi noted absently, as if remembering something. "Most people were wealthy enough to afford it. But those that weren't…"

Chris saw where she was going. "Bullying was an issue, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Yes it was," Bindi noted sadly. "Those with power kept those without it down, and no one could do anything. Even I, as the student president, was ignored by Mother Gracia when I told her about it. If a few poor students were bullied to keep the academy's image perfect, what did it matter?"

Chris was distracted from her story as he watched her hands. As she spoke, she had clutched them tightly, her knuckles turning white. But more concerningly, the flesh had moved and roiled a little bit; signs of mutation.

"Hiding that kind of thing knowingly is a crime," Chris informed her factually. "Mother Gracia will hear from the international boards, and the Academy will likely be exposed."

Bindi seemed surprised at the statement, her grip loosening and the roiling subsiding quickly. She stared at him wide-eyed, her mouth slightly agape. "J...just like that?"

"It will probably take a little while for the official restructuring, but as soon as the report is submitted, Mother Gracia will either be forced to retire or be removed from her position."

"That's all it took?" Bindi noted dully, almost seeming to not hear Chris.

"Are you alright?" he asked, trying to get her attention. She snapped back into focus, composing herself.

"Yes...I am alright," she answered slowly. "Is there anything else?"

"Actually there is," Chris informed her. "Did you get a look at the person who started the infection?"

"No. It was dark, and I think they were wearing a cloak." Chris read her expression for a moment. She wasn't telling the whole truth, but there were elements of it.

"Anything you want to add before we continue, now that you have been awake for a bit?" Chris asked. While it was not uncommon for interviewees to recall more as they woke up, he was more interested to see if she would open up.

"I...wasn't entirely truthful about the crossbow earlier," Bindi admitted. "I didn't take it from the academy. I...bought it."

"Why would you need a crossbow? Was the situation that bad?"

"Not for me...no. I...my friend who taught me how to fight, she...died."

"How did she die?" Chris asked gently.

"Her father had gone bankrupt getting her into that school, and everyone knew it. She didn't belong. They beat her near death. When I told the Mother about it, she hid the fact and told me to keep silent. So I decided we would run away together and tell everyone."

Chris frowned. He could sense where this was going, and he didn't like it. Bindi continued. "When Nanan was strong enough, we sabotaged the cars and ran for it. We thought we would make it. But it turns out that she had a backup storage, and we were surrounded. They tried to subdue us with batons like we were criminals. In the fight, she lost her footing, and fell to her death."

"What happened then?"

"They forced me into the car with her. She was brought to the medical ward, just in case, but it was too late. Once they realized she was dead, they planned to get rid of her in the morning."

"What happened with her body? If we get evidence, it will damn all those involved."

"I...I wasn't part of the crew that got rid of her," Bindi answered, and Chris could see the red flags. She knew exactly what happened to the body. He pondered his next move.

"I am sorry for your loss. Rest assured that her father will receive recompense and the school will be dismantled."

"Thank you, Mr…?"

"Redfield."

"Thank you Mr. Redfield. I...I'm kind of tired. Can I go now?" she asked hopefully. He did agree she looked tired, but there was a nervousness, like she was late for an appointment.

"I'm afraid not," Chris answered. "We still need to ask you a few questions."

Bindi frowned, but nodded, sitting on the edge of the table. "Alright."

"Do you know anything about the virus that the infected were exposed to?"

"Wasn't it that one they released in America?" she asked. Chris couldn't sense any falsity to what she was saying, only ignorance.

"It is a different strain," he answered. "We're not sure about its qualities yet. This is the first time we have seen it."

Chris paused, juggling his options. He had his trump card, but was now the time. He sighed, closing his eyes. "Our medical report also shows that you are infected with it."

Chris had to hand it to her; she put on a good mock of surprise and fear. "I'm not going to-"

"So far your life signs are stable," he interrupted. "However, the strain you have is different. It does not match with any of the samples taken from the infected. It is a primary infection, which means you have to have received a pure sample."

"So someone infected me?" Bindi asked, though Chris could tell from the tone of her voice she didn't expect him to buy that for one moment.

"It means you infected yourself," Chris said flatly, raising a hand to stop her retort. "Listen to me Bindi. The use of biological weapons is strictly forbidden in every country, and is severely punishable. I understand if you don't want to admit it."

"However, if you do talk with us, and help us track down the other source of the infection, your punishment will be lessened, and we can try and help you. You have experienced something traumatic, and forced into a bad situation. Whoever gave you the virus wanted to take advantage of that. Under the circumstances, your involvement will be classified and you can have a chance at a good life."

Chris held his breath, waiting for Bindi's response. The girl was silently arguing with herself. Her fists were clenched tight, the roiling more pronounced, and Chris began to worry she would mutate on the spot and attack him. While the glass was tough, if this virus proved to be worse than the others…

"I...I just wanted to get revenge. How could she dare do that?! It's not my fault! It's not my fault!" Bindi screamed, all of her restraint disappearing. She clutched her head angrily, and Chris could hear the guards out of view stand, ready to act, but he motioned for them to hold fire.

"Calm down Bindi. Tell me what happened. We can still fix this." Chris spoke steadily, and calmly. Bindi looked up, the anger flaring in her eyes as she met his gaze.

"It's not my fault."

"I know it's not," Chris agreed. "Who's fault is it?"

"That woman. The night when Nanan died...she came to me. She gave me a container with two vials. She told me I could get my revenge with them. I gave one to Nanan and she...she...changed."

"Into what?"

"I don't know. But she was able to infect other people. I used her to hurt those that had hurt others."

"And the other vial?"

Bindi smiled, a sad tinge to it. She turned her head, touching the side of her neck. "Went right here."

"Did you get a look at the woman? Did she say anything?"

"It was dark, and I was too focused on Nanan to notice her until she had almost left. I only know it was a woman from her voice."

"Where is Nanan?"

"At the school, in the maintenance areas," Bindi explained, pausing for a moment as a thought came to her. "I need to get back. Now."

"Why?"

Bindi hesitated in her response, wringing her hands. For the first time, she looked truly afraid of him, and Chris had to note that despite her anger and rage, she was just a scared school girl. "Bindi, if you don't tell us, lots of innocent students might get hurt. Didn't you want to protect them?"

"You're right," Bindi admitted. "Even after she changed...Nanan listened to me. I could control her. But without me, she acts like a mindless zombie. The workers we fought were infected by her without my command. I never wanted to attack them, but I couldn't watch her all of the time. If I could just get my revenge and take out Mother Gracia, I would be happy."

"What were you going to do then?" Chris asked. To his surprise, Bindi didn't pause, instead smiling at him sadly.

"After that, well...there wasn't much to live for. They'd already taken the person I cared about. We would die together."

Chris' blood ran cold at the conviction she spoke with. There was no doubt now in his mind that the experience of losing her closest friend had left its mark. Closing his eyes, he could only summon a feeling of pity for her. Any anger over her causing the infection was pushed aside. Yes, she would pay for her involvement, but not with her life.

"Is Nanan the only remaining source of infection?"

"Only if we don't get to her soon."

"What do you mean?"

"Today was the day I told her we would tear down the Academy. I need to get to her. To stop her. Otherwise she'll try to infect everyone."

Chris' eyes widened as he realized what was going on. Turning towards the guards, he began barking orders. "Contact the force near the school. Instruct all students to evacuate if possible, and if not, lock themselves in their rooms. Get the choppers in the air, and have them ready to eliminate any infected."

"No! Please, don't kill Nanan! I can stop her. Please, I can't lose her again!' Bindi screamed, rushing the glass. "Please, I can help, just don't kill her!"

"We can't risk innocents getting infected," Chris explained. "How good is your control?"

"I'm not sure," Bindi admitted. "I think I could maybe command her over a radio. Please, just let me try!"

Chris looked her in the eyes. He felt a pang of sympathy as he remembered rescuing Jill. He had been told there was no saving her, but he had refused to give up. What kind of person would he be if he didn't believe in someone else the same way?

"Alright," he agreed. "Get me a headset with a link to one of the helicopters!"

"Yes sir!" One of the guards responded, tossing the headset to him. Chris moved to the door panel, looking at Bindi for a moment.

"I'm trusting you."

"I won't disappoint you," she promised. Chris nodded, opening the door. Extending his hand, he offered the headset. After a moment, Bindi reached through the open door, accepting it with a nod.

Chris motioned for her to follow him. Bindi followed after quickly, slipping the headset on. "Nanan, this is Bindi…"

* * *

There marks the first section with Bindi. Do comment about whether you preferred this or Moira so that I can bring more of that particular character soon. Both will finish before RE6, so no worries if you pick the less popular one.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chris had expected a little bit more protest from Bindi as they walked. The foliage surrounding the Academy was dense, and brushed against their clothing with every step. His team all wore fatigues and gas masks, so they branches were little more than background stimulus, but Bindi had not had a chance to change out of her uniform.

Glancing at her just to make sure she was still close, he could see the muddy ground had stained her shoes, as well as her socks. The residual water on the plants had soaked her uniform as well, causing it to hang on her like dead weight. Yet she didn't seem to care, walking almost mechanically forward. Still, she kept her place between Merah and Chris.

It had taken some convincing to allow Bindi to walk behind Merah. The normally confident agent had been exceptionally hesitant, and he couldn't blame her. She'd lost people to viruses before. He could sympathize with that; he had lost people too. Even as he thought about it, his grip on his rifle tightened, remembering the other members of S.T.A.R.S. that had lost their lives to Wesker's plans.

Chris snapped out of his thoughts as he stopped, almost having run into Bindi. She had stopped, looking off to the side. Chris followed her gaze, realizing they were standing on the edge of a precipice. The gap between the trees was small, and it had snuck up upon them. The cliff face was sheer, and at the bottom, he could see a large boulder, presumably what had caused the break in the trees whenever it had fallen.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, noting the intent way she stared...no, glared down at the base of the cliff. She held her head up, only looking at it through the bottom of her vision, almost is if in disdain.

"Nothing. Just don't like heights," she replied shortly, turning quickly away from it, stepping up the path. The quick movement towards Merah made the agent raise her weapons and take a step back.

"Merah, it's alright," Chris cut in quickly, motioning for her to lower her weapons. Merah met his gaze and slowly lowered her guns, taking an unsure step back before turning on heel and heading up the path, away from the break. Bindi watched her go, a cold and emotionless expression on her face.

Compare to when she had been dragged in, Bindi seemed almost like a completely different person. When she had been keeping up her facade, she was helpful and cheerful. Now she seemed cold and almost antagonistic, like she was only helping because it worked for her.

Chris had his suspicions about just how true that was.

"Just try to avoid doing that again," Chris warned calmly. Bindi looked at him before nodding slightly, moving to follow Merah. As soon as she was out of earshot, Chris turned to Piers. "Can you see anything down there?"

Piers raised his marksman rifle, looking down the sights. "Looks like there's a section on the rock where something hit it. The moss has been scraped off there. Looks almost stained, like from a body. Do you think this is where..?"

Chris didn't say anything, turning instead to look at Bindi, who waited for them just up the path. She looked down at them with a somewhat impatient expression, but Chris could sense something else. Her eyes were narrowed, almost as if to say "stop looking down there." She turned her gaze away, following after Merah, and Chris decided they had paused long enough, moving quickly up the path, Piers right behind him.

Finally, they reached a more tended section, woodchips crinkling under their feet as they approached a cement doorway sticking out from the hill. A few feet away he could see an old road of some variety, along with almost faded tire tracks. Any doubt he had about what they had stumbled across was gone now.

"This the right entrance?" Merah asked.

"I guarantee it," Bindi defended, stepping forward slowly. Merah stepped to the side, letting her access the door. Throwing it open, Bindi stepped slightly to the side so they could see the tunnel passed it. "See? Just like I said."

"Good work," Chris complimented, nodding his head. "Lead the way."

Chris didn't miss the expression Merah gave him as Bindi took point, crossing the threshold. He would talk to her about it later, but right now speed was of the essence. There was always the risk that Nanan would go rogue. He could only hope that Bindi's broadcasts had helped.

Bindi's cough caught his attention and he quickly looked at her with concern, his headlight stunning her briefly. She held a hand up, blocking the light. "Please aim that away. I'm fine. The air is just thick here."

Chris couldn't tell through the gas mask, but the air did feel warm, and each step he took was announced by a small splash, so it stood to reason that it would be humid. He nodded, turning so he was no longer blinding her.

"So, how big are these tunnels?"

"Not too large. Just a few tunnels. The size comes mainly from the fact that the infrastructure is mainly underground. All the water treatment and power is down here."

"Why would they submerge everything?" Piers asked, looking at the pipes overhead. Surprisingly, they seemed to be fairly dry, though Chris supposed they would have cut the older pipes off from the network. For such a prestigious academy, it seemed they were more content to just build atop the older structures, rather than renovate.

"It looks nicer," Bindi answered, though Chris noted that while it was a simple answer, it wasn't off-handed. It was like she wanted someone to ask.

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Merah noted, and Chris restrained the urge to sigh to himself.

"Only when it comes at the expense of others. After all, how else would I be able to hide the infected for so long?" Bindi turned her head with a small, sadistic smile, though it wasn't directed at them. Rather, she seemed to take some sort of perverse amusement out of the fact she had succeeded in her endeavours against the Mother.

"You vile-!" Merah didn't even bother finishing her sentence as she glared intensely at Bindi. The dark skinned girl simply paused, turning to look at Merah flatly, unamused by the outburst. "You killed innocent men!"

"Killed them, yes. But innocent, no. They were as much involved in my suffering as everyone else. They all did nothing." Bindi's voice was laced with venom as she hissed out the last word.

"You said yourself Mother Gracia was to blame," Merah pointed out.

"Merah, that is-"

"Mother Gracia is the worst, and will pay for her evil ways. The men I infected worked for her. They knew what she did, and they still listened. They chased and attacked Nanan and me. We were too weak to defend ourselves, and they killed Nanan and hid the fact of her death."

"When I gained the power to fight back, I took it. Did you know what happened to the infected students?" Bindi asked, a smirk on her lips. Chris frowned; he knew that Ricky and his uncle had encountered a couple of infected students, but he hadn't got the details yet. Chris motioned for Merah to stand down. The dark haired woman glanced at him before stepping back. Chris nodded thankfully to her before stepping towards Bindi.

"What happened to the students?" he asked, meeting Bindi's gaze. She looked up at him, the cruel curve of her smile lightening slightly.

"The security service captured them. Held them in stockades in one of the old buildings. Did you know a number of security guards died capturing them? Mother Gracia didn't care though."

Chris was silent for a moment, absorbing the information. He had to agree with her that what Gracia had done was terrible, but revenge was not going to solve it the way she wanted it to. He did have to wonder if there was irony in that thought, considering he had taken revenge against Wesker himself. That was a different set of circumstances, he reminded himself. Instead, he chose to answer firmly, but gently, "I already said Mother Gracia will face punishment for her crimes."

"Punishment is not enough!" Bindi contested hotly. "She has to die! Augh-!"

Bindi doubled over, clutching at the side of her face. Chris restrained the urge to grab his rifle, though he heard his companions aim their weapons. Chris knelt down, putting a hand on her shoulder tightly. "Focus on me. Are you okay?"

In the close light, he could see her uncovered eye, wide and twitching slightly along with the rest of her body. Her breathing was rapid, but slowed just as quick as it had started and soon she was back to normal. As her eye refocused, it snapped to Chris' face. A shift came over her face, and it soon resumed its passive facade as she stood up, shrugging off his arm.

"I'm fine. Just...let's keep going." Bindi turned to leave, but Chris moved beside her, putting his arm in her path. "What?"

"If you're suffering from the virus, we'll need to get you out of here."

"No!" Bindi retorted, too quickly. "I...just felt angry. I'll be fine, so long as you don't irritate me."

Something about the way she said it struck Chris, almost like she was...pleading with him. Warning him even. Gone was the overt threat, and only genuine concern. It was gone in a moment though, and she composed herself, turning on heel to continue leading.

Chris saw the sideways glance she threw at Merah, but she shoved passed his arm before he could do anything more. Looking at his team, he could see their concern plainly on their faces. He turned to Piers. "Keep pace with her for a sec. Merah, we need to talk."

"Yes sir," they replied and Chris waited for Piers to fall into step beside Bindi while he and Merah trailed behind.

"Going to chew me out, Captain?" Merah asked, avoiding his gaze.

"If I did, it would be hypocritical," Chris admitted. Merah looked at him in confusion, and he continued. "I can't say I like the fact that she killed those men, even if they were involved. But there are bigger things at stake right now. Right now, we have a bomb walking around underneath the school, and our best chance at disarming it is her. Understand?"

"Yes Captain," Merah responded, looking down for a minute. "You won't have to worry about me Captain. I won't be a problem."

"I didn't think you would," Chris affirmed. He turned, immediately noticing Piers' upheld hand, signalling for a halt. Piers turned to glance at him, tapping his ear.

Slowly, Chris lifted his rifle, listening. In the still silence, it wasn't hard to make out the sound. A shuffling noise, somewhere up ahead. Chris could see a door inset against the wall ahead, guessing that was where the sound was coming from.

He noticed how still Bindi was standing only a moment before she began running. She moved too quickly for Piers to grab her, and she reached the door in no time. She gripped the handle, and Chris could only watch in surprise as she bent the metal in her grip, bursting the rusted hinges off.

Chris darted around the corner quickly, arriving just in time to see a fleshy tentacle disappear into a hole in the ceiling. Bindi stood a few feet in front of him, looking up into the hole, though he could not see her face.

He barely had time to react as a cracking noise erupted from behind him, and he watched helplessly as the ceiling above the doorway cracked. Piers and Merah appeared on the other side just as it gave out, debris spilling down into the doorway. Before the dust even settled, he had clambered onto the pile looking for any signs of weakness in the stack.

"Piers! Merah! Can you hear me?"

"We're alright Captain," Merah answered. "Is there any way over you can see from your side, because there is nothing on this end."

"Nothing here either," Chris confirmed, stepping away from the pile. "It would take too long to dig through this mess. You two head back up to the surface and get back-up. If we fail to stop Nanan, you need to save as many lives as possible."

"But Captain what about you-?"

"That is an order," Chris insisted. "Now move!"

"Yes sir!" Chris only paused to listen to the sound of their boots heading back the way they had come before looking up. The debris had left a hole on their side of the door, presumably leading to where Nanan was going.

"Let's go." Without looking back, Chris climbed up the rubble, hearing Bindi follow him after a moment. Peering over the top, he did a brief sweep with his headlight, just to make sure Nanan wasn't waiting before pulling himself over the edge. He turned back to offer a hand to Bindi, who took it impartially. As soon as he feet touched ground again, she started walking, staring fixedly ahead. "Did she go that way?"

"Yes. I can sense her," Bindi said distractedly. "You coming?"

Chris ramped up his speed, quickly transitioning into a jog that Bindi easily stayed a pace ahead of. In the gloom, he could see the ground had been stained with a greenish colour that had he not been through so many infection scenarios he would have suspected was fungus. Instead, he recognized the telltale signs of crusted viral material. He filed the note away mentally; the BSAA fire teams would have to clean the Academy top to bottom before the demo teams had their way.

The pair suddenly found themselves in the open, and Chris realized the passage had opened into one of the underground pipe systems. Scanning his surroundings quickly, he spotted motion in the distance. "There!"

Now Chris was in the lead, pursuing the retreating figure. In his headlight, he could make out the shape better. A cloak obscured most of the body, but flowing from the cloak were about a half dozen tentacles, stretching and compressing to create a slithering run that was more compared to a stumble than a true run.

The figure abruptly turned, clambering up a section of the wall out of side. The rusted metal of handles caught his eye and he looked up to see her disappear over the top, light flooding down, temporarily blinding him. He felt Bindi push passed him, scrambling up the ladder.

Recovering quickly, he scrambled after her. Cresting the top, he found himself in the courtyard of the school. Fearfully he looked around, spotting a few students who stood back in fear. Ahead, he could see Nanan, fleeing towards the admin building. To his great relief, she seemed so focused on her target, she didn't pay attention to anyone else. Pursuing after her, he took a deep breath, shouting his commands. "Everyone stay away from that B.O.W.! Get clear of the campus!"

Ahead of him, Bindi was off at full tilt. She was so focused that even as she plowed into a crowd she barely paid attention, brushing them aside easily with a sweep of her hand. One of the girls landed with a cry of pain and he saw Bindi tense, pausing on the spot as if struck. She turned, looking down at the girl in question.

Chris paused beside her, mind racing. They couldn't afford to waste time as Nanan ran, but if Bindi snapped, it would lead to more deaths. He was about to get her attention when she shook her head. When she spoke, he thought she was addressing him, but he quickly realized she was talking to the girl.

"Sorry...I didn't mean to…" Before the girl had a chance to react, Bindi was off, pursuing Nanan again. It was a brief moment, but it was more than Chris had seen from the girl. He wondered if there was something left of her old nature hidden in her somewhere; shoving the thought from his mind, he focused on the now. He had two potential biohazards to contain, and they were getting dangerously close to their goal.

"Captain!" Chris perked up as his earpiece buzzed. "What is happening?"

"Nanan is head to the admin building. She is after Mother Gracia. We need to stop her."

"Understood. We'll move to the roof." Chris confirmed, hearing the helicopter come over the hill. In the distance, he could hear vehicles rolling up the hill, moving to secure the site. While he could hear the sounds of the students panicking, he trusted the BSAA would extract them quickly enough. He had had enough of having to stand by because of political tape. This had officially escalated into full biohazard.

Rushing along the halls, he followed Bindi up the stairs, easily skipping several steps, his rifle held close. Above him, he could hear the helicopter landing, and he hoped they could lock things down before Nanan did something they would all regret.

Passing by the windows, he could see the BSAA moving in, ushering students behind the defensive line, ready for processing. While their exposure to Nanan had been mild, they could not take any risks. His earpiece crackled to life.

"We're in Mother Gracia's office Captain. Orders?"

"Bar the doors. If we can get to Nanan before she finds a way in, we can still stop this."

"Roger. Help me get this against the door!" He could hear the sound of something being overturned a moment before the line went dead again, and somewhere above him, he could hear the faint echo of the same noise.

Bindi's casual pace had escalated significantly, almost seeming panicked. Her feet barely touched the steps, and her expression was one of desperation, her grip on the banister pale white with the force of her grips.

Finally, they arrived on the top floor, spinning around the corner. A loud bang immediately drew his gaze to where Nanan was throwing herself against the door, the thick-set wood cracking under the force. Bindi rushed forward, and he was only a few paces behind as Nanan broke through, tumbling into the space beyond. He could hear Piers and Merah shout paired "stand-downs."

Bindi entered a moment before he did, and he stepped into the doorway a moment after she did, drawing a slow breath as he heard her shout of "Nanan stop!" get cut short by the loud bang of a gun. At first, he thought one of his team had been fired, but his trained ear quickly recognized it was neither of their guns. It had been a single pistol shot from within the room.

And as Bindi's head snapped back, he realized what had happened. Her body fell backwards, allowing him to see Mother Gracia, her smoking pistol barrel pointed right at him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The next few seconds were chaos, and it was only in retrospect Chris was able to figure out what all had happened.

Far as he could tell, Nanan had instantly gone into attack mode, grabbing Mother Gracia around the neck. It was only due to a quick shot from Piers' rifle that she had survived. The bullet had easily severed the tentacle, causing Nanan to recoil.

Merah had meanwhile flown towards Mother Gracia upon seeing her gun pointed at Chris. She tackled her as her feet hit the floor, and the two impacted the floor, with Merah knocking the gun out of her hands. The weapon had skidded across the floor, leaving a skid mark in the blood smear.

Chris himself had launched himself at Nanan while she was occupied. While she was larger than him when her tentacles were fully extended, the pain had caused her to rock backwards, bringing them all together into a pillar-like formation. He easily out-weighed her, propelling them both to the ground. Even running on instinct, she had been unprepared for a frontal assault, and Chris grunted with the effort of trying to keep her pinned.

He was able to prevent her from fully extending her tentacles by locking his arms around her, but she quickly got leverage, using her tentacles to right both of them, waving him around. Even so, he used his legs to try and throw her off-balance. It worked, but the two toppled onto Mother Gracia's desk, and he found himself on the losing end of the exchange, smashed underneath her mass as she threw her entire weight behind it.

The impact easily stunned him, and he could only manage to barely prop himself up as Nanan raised a tentacle, ready to impale him. Piers' rifle had been knocked from his hands in the fight, and Chris could see he was rushing for it, but there was not enough time.

Chris braced to try and roll out of the way, but the tentacle stopped in the air a few inches in front of his face before he saw Nanan tumble backwards, as if losing her balance. Pushing himself up, his eyes widened at what he saw.

Bindi was standing over her, the wound in her face still patching itself together. Her left arm had engorged and burst, the musculature underneath stretching and swelling into a long, whip-like arm tipped with a claw that was latched firmly along Nanan's neck. Nanan was pressed to the floor, almost like a chastised dog.

"Stop," she commanded powerfully as she let go, her arm retracting slightly. Chris heard the sound of a punch being thrown, and looked to see Merah rolling aside, clutching her face as Mother Gracia grabbed her machine gun.

The sound of steam and heat covered the sound of the bullet fire, and before his eyes, Bindi's other arm mutated, the fingers lengthening into almost scythe-like extensions before locking together to form a thick, chitinous shield that absorbed the gun fire easily. As she advanced, her extended arm grabbed the misplaced pistol, and she reached Gracia in no time. With a quick bash, her shield knocked the gun out of her hands, while also throwing the woman to the ground. Bindi took a step forward, standing on Mother Gracia's stomach before aiming her pistol at her head.

"Bindi stop!" Chris shouted, aiming his weapon at her. "Don't make us fire!"

Bindi raised her head to look at him, and his blood ran cold at the sight. The wound had mostly healed already, but a milky white eye had grown in its place. Around it, patches of what almost looked like immolated skin marred her once beautiful face, curving the corner of her mouth into a twisted smile.

But in her face, he could see the struggle. The other side of her mouth was tight, and he could see the twitch as she held back, her arm shaking slightly. The corners of her eyes threatened to spill over with tears.

"Put the gun down Bindi. We can still work this out," Chris promised, slowly stepping towards her, lowering his weapon. Bindi shakily turned the gun towards him, and he heard his own team aim their weapons in response. He quickly held up a hand, motioning for them to stand down.

"I...I...I can't. I've hurt people. I...can't let _**her**_ get away...I...I don't know anymore," Bindi managed as she shook her head, trying to focus. "I am just going to hurt someone else. I need to be stopped, but not before she dies too."

"You are not going to hurt anyone," Chris affirmed, stepping even closer. "You just stopped Nanan from killing me. You could have killed Gracia in a heartbeat, but you disarmed her instead."

"Stop," Bindi pleaded, her grip shaking further.

"Let us help you Bindi. Everyone can still make it out of here. We can get you help. You have to fight this. You can fight this."

By this point Chris had reached Bindi, her pistol practically shoved up against his chest. Slowly, he raised his arm, but paused when she tensed. He raised his gaze, meeting her eyes. He could see the fear in her eyes; everything she had been sure of was gone now. All the hate, all the anger, faded. Only a scared, directionless girl. He knew it wouldn't last forever though.

He continued to raise his hand, and this time she didn't react. He slowly wrapped his hand around the gun, and gently pried it from her hands. Had she wished to resist, he would not have been able to take it from her iron grip, a fact he could tell from the momentary resistance. As soon as the pistol left her grasp, he could see her accepting defeat, her knees quaking. He slid the pistol into his holster, making sure to click on the safety. Bindi stepped back, letting the Mother out from under her heel.

He then turned to Mother Gracia, who had begun righting herself, and was looking at him contemptuously. Reaching behind his back, he withdrew handcuffs. "Mother Gracia, you are under arrest by the authority of the BSAA. You can either come willingly, or be taken by force."

"You can't touch me," she claimed, pushing herself to a stand.

"We have evidence and testimony that claims that you were responsible for covering up the viral infection, as well as several accounts of obfustication of the law, at least one count of conspiring to commit and hide murder, and another attempted murder of Bindi Bergara."

"You are going to take her word? She tried to kill me."

"There are at least three witnesses in this room that witnessed you shoot her in the process of trying to stop Nanan from killing you. And one of them is one of the founders of the BSAA."

Mother Gracia's face went pale, and she tried to respond, but found herself unable to respond. Finally she straightened up, looking at Chris defiantly. "You won't touch me."

"Really? What made you think that?" he asked with a smile. She didn't have time to respond before Chris had turned her around, clicking her hands into the manacles. He stepped back, tapping his earpiece. "Captain Redfield to HQ, we have Mother Gracia. Ready for pickup."

"And the other targets?"

Chris turned to glance at Bindi. The girl had moved over to Nanan, who seemed comfortable cradled in her arms, stroking the messy strands of hair out of her face. It was surprisingly peaceful scene all things considered. He could see Bindi talking to Nanan but couldn't make out any of the words. He felt confident that either of his teammates would tell him if it was important, seeing as they flanked the two, keeping a careful eye on them. "They are safe and ready to be transported."

"Roger, over and out."

Chris nodded, looking back to Gracia. "Alright, time to move out people. Merah, would you escort Mother Gracia out?"

"With pleasure Captain." Merah practically bounded over, ushering the silent Mother out of the room. He walked over to Bindi, standing over her shoulder.

"You ready?" Chris asked quietly, gently accepting a set of manacles from Piers.

"Yes," Bindi answered quietly, standing up, obliging holding her hands behind her back. Chris noticed with surprise that her arms had reverted, though he could see the faint scarring along them, revealing where the mutated material had burst forth. He doubted the marks would ever disappear. As he put her hands in the manacles, he could still see distinct discolourations from where they had attempted to reassemble themselves. One of her hands was still covered in chitinous plating, while the other had prominent marks from where the claws had remerged with the bone. He clipped the manacles into place, though he doubted they would do much if she really wanted to escape. It was more a gesture.

"Captain, how are we going to restrain Nanan?" Piers asked. Chris turned to the other girl, getting his first proper look at her.

She looked like she had been a bit more mature looking than Bindi when she had been human. Her messy hair was still held up in a loose bun, with many strands hanging down. Even with the messy hair, not enough was loose to cover the massive growths on her face. The entire side of her face had been overgrown by what almost looked like the suckers on an octopus' tentacles crossed with fungi. The pattern extended down her neck to her chest, which he could now see was obscured by the growths. Her arms no longer existed in their natural shape, but rather had split into a plethora of spongy tentacles, all resembling octupus'. Her legs seemed atrophied, and they bent towards each other at the knees, giving her a slight tilt.

"Do you feel confident you can keep her calm?" Chris asked. Bindi nodded silently, and Chris accepted her answer, turning towards the door. "We'll just walk until we meet up with the team. They should have the gear."

He spared one glance back into the room, looking at the devastation. Blood smeared the doorway, and the fractured table hand left quite a mess, but things had turned out rather well. Still, for a moment, he had thought it was over. Turning his back to it, he stepped into the hallway. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Chris stepped into the doors of BSAA East HQ, hand on his earpiece. "Get them down to the holding cells. I will be down shortly to talk with them. Begin standard questioning-"

"Mr. Redfield!"

Chris paused in his commands as he turned, looking to see a familiar youth running up to him; Ricky Tozawa. He had almost forgotten about the kid in the rush. "You know the drill. I'll be down ASAP. How can I help you Ricky?"

The boy ran up to him, his red hair a mess. Chris could read his concern plainly, and he couldn't blame him. It had been less than 24 hours since his harrowing encounter with the infected. "What happened? Did anybody die? Is everyone alright-"

"Slow down Ricky. Nobody died. We were lucky this time. I should thank you for that. If you had not called the BSAA when you did, things might have gotten much worse."

"Don't thank me. My uncle told me to. I just wish he had made it."

"Your uncle was a good man. He would be proud of you," Chris assured, putting a hand on his shoulder. Ricky smiled slightly, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. After a moment, he raised his gaze to look Chris in the eyes.

"What happened with Bindi?" he asked quietly. Chris' expression hardened a little as he thought about what to say. After a moment he removed his hand, motioning for Ricky to follow him.

"Let's talk in one of the offices." Ricky nodded, following Chris. He knew he couldn't explain everything to him, but he could at least try to help ease the boy's mind. Opening the door to one of the vacant offices, he motioned for him to enter first. It was a simple room, with a comforting earth tone to it. The main features was the desk with a chair in front of it.

Chris closed the door behind him before moving over to the other side, taking his own seat. Ricky nervously sat down, fidgeting with the neck of his shirt. Now that he looked, Chris noticed he was wearing different clothes than before the mission. "I see they examined you. Any injuries?"

"None, miraculously," Ricky explained with a thankful sigh. "Some minor bruises, but no broken skin, and no infection. All clean. A little sore and tired though."

"That's to be expected. You're probably still running on adrenaline. I will try and make this quick so you can get some rest," Chris explained, leaning forward. "I can't go into many details as a matter of security, but I can tell you there were no casualties."

"So what will happen now?"

"The Academy will be closed down and destroyed. The risk that the infection could be hiding in some corner is too high. Over the next few days, the students will be processed until we are sure they are clean. Then it will be levelled and the sub levels bombed to make sure there is nothing left."

"What happens to Mother Gracia and Bindi?"

Chris pressed his mouth tightly, debating what to say. "Mother Gracia will stand trial for her crimes. I suspect that she will be locked away for a long time. The law is very clear on the punishment for suppressing information relating to bioterrorism."

Ricky nodded, though he did not look too relieved by the news. He was silent for a moment before he spoke. "If she is getting locked away for hiding it, what will happen to Bindi? She purposefully spread it."

"Under normal circumstances, she would face punishment. However, we have reason to suspect that these were not normal circumstances. If we knew a bit more, it would be easier to work with her sentence. Do you know anything on that front?" Chris asked, prompting Ricky calmly.

Ricky sighed, leaning back in his chair. Closing his eyes, he seemed to focus for a moment. He spoke without opening his eyes. "I'm not quite an investigator yet, but I can tell you right now the school was not right even before all of this. I mean, Nanan was killed, and Gracia didn't do anything about it."

Ricky's voice gained a harsh edge to it as he continued. "I mean...she let the Student Council President get away with bullying in broad daylight. And if the uniforms of the zombies we found were anything to go by, she sacrificed her own men to try and hide the infection. She wouldn't let us contact you at all for help either…"

Chris was silent as Ricky trailed off. The boy opened his eyes, looking immeasurably more tired. He leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. "Even so...at the end, she almost sounded like she regretted it. Almost. We...we visited the spot where Nanan died, and she said she wished they could have prevented it. But that's just it isn't it? She wanted to prevent it, but she never said she regretted it. My uncle offered to help her, but she refused. I really wanted to believe there was still a trace of a good person in there…"

"I have no doubt Mother Gracia has many problems," Chris informed him. "If I had to take a guess, I would think she has a very fragile image of who she is, and what she desires. Getting knocked down a peg might be what she needs in order to figure things out. Either way, she will have plenty of time to think about it. It's good that you're thinking about that; just don't agonize yourself over it."

"I guess you're right," Ricky agreed. "I feel so...conflicted. I want to say that it wasn't Bindi's fault. She was pushed to do what she did, but at the same time, if Mother Gracia is a horrible person for what she did, doesn't that make Bindi just the same?"

"It's a hard truth to face," Chris confirmed. "That being said, there are some differences. What do you feel is the truth?"

"I feel like there is still something good in her," Ricky admitted. "But why does that matter? She's infected; it's just how it works."

"You'd be surprised. I was once faced with a situation where I either had to take it at surface value, or trust what I knew to be true. It worked out, even if it was hard," Chris assured him.

"You think there is something you can do for her?" Ricky asked, looking slightly hopeful.

"All we can do is try," Chris noted. "In the meanwhile, you should get some rest. Tomorrow, we can talk more. If you're still interested in investigation, we might be able to get you some contacts. Sound good?"

"Yes sir," Ricky said with a mock salute, a slight amount of his smile returning as he stood. "And...thank you."

"No problem." Chris watched the youth leave, and stood himself only a short while afterwards. He tracked his way through the building to the elevator, mulling over his thoughts.

Ricky's concern for Bindi was admirable. The kid had a good heart, and Chris wished they had more people like him. Still, he would be just as happy to keep him away from the front lines. They always needed more people to take the photographic evidence and document the outbreaks anyway.

Swiping his card, he sent the elevator down to the holding area. It wasn't quite the same as the one back home. Their partnership with TerraSave had assured that they would have the best in facility design. Chris had to marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He and his sister had both ended up as leading figures in the war on Bioterrorism, either on the military or aid fronts. Beyond that, both of their organizations had grown stronger after the downfall of a larger, more corrupt organization. The FBC and WilPharma both had paved the way for the BSAA and TerraSave to step up and protect the world. In a way, Chris felt it was almost poetic. The old regime had been torn down for being complicit in the dealings they were meant to be stopping, and had been replaced with something better.

It was hard for him to not sympathize with Bindi. She had sought to destroy that which had grieved her, but he could not agree with the means in the slightest. It was hard to draw a definite line though; he was not in support of Gracia either, especially after the showdown in her office.

The elevator opened, and Chris stepped out, nodding as men and women saluted in his wake. Eying the signs, he navigated along towards the high security rooms. As he passed by the lower security cells, he could only wonder how they would handle the volume of people they were about to receive. Marhawa, despite being private, was by no means a small school. Each student would have to be processed individually to make sure there was no infection.

The fact that they had never dealt with this new strand was another factor. The only compensation was that they had taken a sample from Bindi, so they would have a faster time identifying if there was any infection.

Flashing his ID to the guards, he stepped through the checkpoint, feeling the system parse him for infection. A green light later, and he was into the secure ward. Each of the rooms here was capable of being sealed individually, or all together, and contained attached research rooms. Thankfully they had seen little use.

Stepping into the first one, he could see a couple personnel standing at the ready, holding onto their rifles tightly. A pair of doctors also sat in the room, making quick, messy looking notes. One of them turned and stood at attention. "Captain Redfield."

"At ease. What's her status?" Chris walked over to the glass, peering into the room. Bindi sat on the table, holding her right arm out. To his surprise, it had mostly reverted from its tentacled shape back to a human form. Her skin almost looked like a patchwork mess, with muscles rippling through open sores. The sections of skin that had regenerated were pale, and greenish, while the bits of bone tried to re-align themselves under the surface, plain to see. With each pulse or crack, the arm seemed to leak a bit of greenish liquid, pooling at the base of the table. He noticed that her face had healed, but the pale whiteness of her eye was still present. The third eye was almost entirely gone, with only a fleshy lump betraying its former position.

Her other arm had not reverted however. She had unlocked her fingers, and the broad, chitinous scythes hung beside the table, like long, lax fingers. "She has been at this since we recovered her. She fixed her face first, and she has been whittling away at her arm."

"How is she doing it?"

"We're not sure. The virus showed some markers for both of the viruses, so it could be any number of things. We'll need to take some x-rays and cell cultures to see how it works."

"Those can wait. Has she said anything?"

"Not yet sir. Do you want to talk with her?"

Chris nodded, walking over beside the glass. Taking a breath, he pressed down on the button. "How are you Bindi?"

Bindi paused in her focus, letting her hand go slack at her side. Her eyes wandered over the glass, seeming to settle on a spot at random. "In one piece."

Chris squinted, trying to perceive something in her expressions. After a moment, he spoke again. "Can we get you anything? I know it's not the most comfortable, but we might be able to arrange something."

"I'm fine," Bindi assured, sounding a little bitter. Chris noted it, but decided against pressing immediately.

"How does your head feel? What all do you remember?"

Bindi gingerly touched a hand to the spot where she had been shot. "It stopped hurting immediately. I didn't even have time to process it. Next thing I knew, you were talking me down. I don't even remember coming back to consciousness."

"Can you remember what happened before that?"

"Every second. Don't worry Captain, I haven't suffered any brain damage. Bullet went straight through."

Chris wasn't exactly sure there was a situation beside this where he was happy the bullet had made it all the way through. "Just making sure. Brain damage was a serious risk."

"So is infection," Bindi countered. _That was definitely bitter_ , Chris noted.

"So far no one is showing signs of infection. If they all clear the screening, they should be able to go home," Chris explained, pausing for a moment to let her think.

"Good...good," Bindi muttered absently. "So...what happens now?"

"I am going to ask a few questions. I want to know more about what happened. From there, we can start to think about what will happen," Chris explained. Upon seeing Bindi nod, he continued. "Do you remember anything about the woman who gave you the virus?"

"It was dark. I really don't remember much," Bindi apologized, closing her eyes. "She was...slender. It was hard to tell with the cloak, but I saw her legs. Smooth black hair, I think. Well-kempt. But that's all I can remember."

"That's still more than we had. After she gave you the virus, what did you do?"

Bindi's expression faded to neutral, and she averted her gaze. "I already told you. I used it on Nanan."

Chris noted to return to that subject later. "Fair enough. When did you use it on yourself?"

"Just before I tried to trick Ricky...is he..?"

"Mr. Tozawa is alright," Chris confirmed. "What were you going to do?"

"My plan was to attack him when I woke up. Then I would release Nanan and attack Gracia in the chaos," Bindi explained, before suddenly stopping, looking down. "Why would I do that? How many people would have died had I..?"

"Can you remember how you felt after injecting yourself?"

"I felt...invincible. Unstoppable. Like I could walk right up to Mother Gracia and snap her neck in my hand," Bindi recounted, tensing her fist for emphasis. "She deserves it. The girls who hurt us deserved it, but no one else. Why..?"

"Bindi, can you remember your thoughts after you woke up here?"

"I felt...numb? Like I was watching a very boring movie. I just...watched. It wasn't until we got into the courtyard that I really felt anything...no, that's not true. In the jungle, when we passed by...that spot, I felt anger. I wanted you to stop looking. It wasn't for you."

Chris nodded, noticing Bindi was looking very tired and shaken by her recounting. "That will have to do for now. We will have to talk more, but I recommend you get some rest. Tomorrow will be very busy. I did want to ask you one thing though. Legally, I have no obligation to ask you, but I wanted to ask anyway; do you mind if we look at Nanan. I can promise we won't harm her. We just want to understand the infection so we can protect others from it."

Bindi looked at the glass silently for a moment, and Chris worried she might have been spacing out when she slowly nodded. "Alright. Please...take care of her. She's all I have left."

"Thank you Bindi. We'll take care. Get some rest."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Here are the latest reports on the evacuation process. So far, everything is going well. They say things should wrap up in a couple days at most."

"Thank you Piers," Chris nodded, accepting the papers. Out of all the things he had to get used to in the BSAA, reading reports had been one of the easiest. He had already taken to reading as many as he could get his hands on when it came to bioterrorism, so making it part of his job was not hard.

Chris eyed the figures, mentally adding things to the calendar. He had to smile at the figures; in the early days, even a clean site took days to clean up, sometimes even up to a week. An increase in protocol efficiency as well as technology made it much faster nowadays. _Less time those affected have to suffer_ , Chris noted.

"How are things looking for the students?"

"Most of their parents have already made preparations to pick them up, and some are already enrolled elsewhere. A few of them are going to be held here while their parents can pick them up."

"Sounds like we've got it covered," Chris surmised with a happy note in his voice. The smile faded as he moved on though. "Any developments in the night?"

"Mother Gracia has not said anything since her capture, aside from asking for a change of clothes upon arrival. Nanan has been largely inactive, and Bindi spent most of the night either healing or sleeping."

"Any news from the labs?"

"They have confirmed the virus in question was a hybrid of G and T-Veronica samples," Piers informed him grimly, passing him another report. Chris picked it up, reading each line carefully. There was not much in the way of actual direct data, but he could see the gist of what they had discovered.

"Get the teams working on trying to synthesize a cure for this. If it starts to look too difficult, call in some of our resources. If this virus can create mutations with an air vector, then it is our top priority to cure it," Chris insisted before setting the document aside. "How is Merah doing?"

"More damage to her pride than anything," Piers noted with a smile. "A nasty bruise from the mask, but it prevented Gracia from hitting her nose."

Chris nodded, getting the implication. "I am glad to hear that. But I was more interested in how she is feeling emotionally. You know her better than me."

Piers' expression became serious and he looked to the side in thought. "Merah feels stronger than most about bioterrorism. I have never met anyone with quite as much drive as her. So I imagine she's happy we stopped the incident…"

"But not that we left Bindi and Nanan alive?" Chris finished with an understanding expression.

"She lost a lot of people. With all due respect to your decision sir, I can't honestly say I disagree with it."

"Your honesty is noted...and appreciated." Chris was about to continue when a beeping interrupted him. Checking his phone, he noted that it was an alarm. "We'll continue this later. I have to go try and talk with Bindi, see what I can find out."

Chris looked up as he stood, regarding Piers solidly for a second. He could sense the distraction at the back of his mind, and Chris almost let a small smile slip as he spoke. "Why don't you go check on Merah? We will probably need her soon?"

To his credit, Piers didn't smile at the suggestion, but Chris could tell as he snapped a salute that he was thankful for the excuse. He dropped the salute with a "yes sir!" before turning around, and leaving the office promptly.

Chris wasted no time in grabbing the documents he needed, and leaving the office himself.

* * *

Chris walked passed the "silent" observation room and the containment door, before opening the one to the "active" observation room. A couple of the science team were already inside, and Chris nodded to them.

"Have you communicated with her yet?"

"Not yet sir. We thought you would want to head that particular endeavour."

"Good work." Chris stepped up to the wall, which shone ever so slightly in the darkened room, revealing the presence of glass between him and the shutter on the other side. "Is she in a good state?"

"She seems stable. We have men waiting to respond should she turn hostile," one of them confirmed. Chris nodded.

"Go ahead and open the shutter." Chris watched as the light inside the room came on, and the metal shutter gave a small jump before beginning to slide up seamlessly. Through the widening gap, he could begin to see into the white room beyond.

Finally, the shutter raised enough to see Bindi herself. Chris was relieved to see that most of her wounds had healed, though he could see the remains of some of the mutations. A faint patchwork of white scars marred the side of her face, making it look like it had cracked and been put back together, with only the slightest of marks to betray it. However, her left eye was still a milky white, gazing ahead unblinkingly.

She crossed her arms in front of her and he could see they had not escaped the same treatment. The marks were more apparent on her arms than on her face, and the scarring was more hastily patched. Bands of thickened skin weaved over her skin, almost resembling a spider's web.. Considering how radically they had been changed, he was not surprised that the healing was imperfect. Still, considering the cocktail of a virus she had been infected with, it was not the worst that could have happened.

"Good morning Bindi," Chris greeted, trying to smile. It was not returned. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired and sore." Her eyes seemed fixed on him intently, narrowed slightly. Chris almost felt like he was being subjected to as much scrutiny as she was. Still, he would not be deterred from doing his job.

"As soon as we can move you to a more comfortable residence, we will," Chris assured. "In the meanwhile, is there anything we can do for you?"

"I doubt it."

Chris restrained a frown, focusing on the questions that most needed answering. "Would you be willing to answer a few questions at this time?"

A moment of silence passed and he could see Bindi's gaze retract, her expression neutral. Patiently, he awaited her response, concerned by the long wait. Still, it would not help to interrupt her decision.

"Go ahead. I'll answer."

"Thank you." Chris straightened up slightly, his expression focused. "When you injected Nanan, what happened afterwards?"

"At first, nothing happened, but then it was like her skin began to melt. But not like melting plastic. It turned somewhat translucent, like molten glass, and I could kind of see what was going on inside before it hardened into a solid shell. I was beside her the whole time, and when it began to glow, it was really hot."

"Eventually, the shell began to hiss, and it even steamed a bit before shattering. Then she climbed out, brought back to life. All the changes had happened inside. It was almost poetic," Bindi mused absently before shaking her head. "The shell looked just like her before it broke."

Chris could hear the scratching of notes behind him, along with the sound of the recorder. Reaching behind him, he picked up one of the reports, thumbing through until he found what he was looking for. Holding it up to the glass, he waited a moment while Bindi slid off the table, walking towards him. He noted that she walked with a smooth, powerful gait; something he had learned to recognize in the infected after a long time in the business.

"The things you described are consistent with what we have discovered about the virus. The heat was likely due to the Veronica virus, while the rapid mutation is more consistent with the G-virus," Chris explained as Bindi read. He paused briefly as she continued reading, digesting the details. Despite the visible marking of her eye, it did not seem to have affected her actual vision as she read through each line quite quickly. Finally she finished, motioning for him to turn the page.

"As of the moment, we are still unsure about why the virus affected you and Nanan differently. Until we have more samples and time, we are operating under the assumption that they could be two different strains." Chris turned the page as he spoke, surprised at Bindi's speed. As she read silently, he realized he should not have been surprised; Marhawa was a fairly prestigious academy. It stood to reason that the students had at least some skill beyond the norm.

"A good base assumption," she admitted. "But you would need to confirm that before going on to any kind of testing. Which means you need a sample from Nanan."

 _Very observant_ , Chris noted. He had initially underestimated her intelligence; he would have to be careful in the future. "You are correct. And as of the moment, you are the only one we know of that can get her to cooperate-"

"You want my help," she interrupted with a half-smile.

"We would prefer not to harm her if possible. With your help, we can do that. Additionally, it reflects good on both of you if it goes over smoothly."

Bindi regarded Chris for a second. "So aside from landing in the good books, what else do I get?"

"We are willing to negotiate, however the offer is limited in time. Every second counts."

"Alright then," Bindi agreed, leaning back. "Let's make this quick then. I want to be with Nanan."

"Until we determine whether the strains are separate-"

"If they are the same strain, you allow us to be together. If they are different, then we'll renegotiate. Sound like a deal?"

Chris narrowed his eyes at Bindi, weighing the options in his head. "I will present the idea to the others. If they turn it down, we can renegotiate. I won't leave you flapping in the wind."

"Thank you," Bindi said with a bow, a small smile on her face. "Are you going to need to restrain me?"

"Only until we get to the containment gate," Chris assured her. He turned to the scientists behind him. "Get the crew."

"Yes sir!" One of the scientists got up, leaving the room while the other stayed behind to dutifully record.

"So, I heard you mention to Mother Gracia that you were the head of the BSAA," Bindi noted. Chris nodded, turning back to her.

"I am. One of them at least. It's a ceremonial title mostly."

"You still earned it somehow," Bindi pointed out knowingly.

"It's a long story. Long story short, I have been around for about as long as there have been viral incidents." Chris lifted his gaze as the containment team stepped into the room. The team glanced between him and Bindi for a moment, waiting for the go.

Bindi turned back to Chris, and the two met gazes for a moment. At length, Bindi nodded, forcing herself to relax. Turning to the team, Chris nodded. The whole thing went pretty quickly, as they moved around her, forming a careful formation to escort her from the room. Chris watched as they stepped out into the hallway, losing sight as the containment doors closed.

* * *

Chris didn't feel the need to be there personally for the reading of Mother Gracia's charges. Besides, the camera in the cell would capture it all should it be needed. In the meanwhile, he had more pressing matters to handle.

"Captain Redfield reporting in." Chris' voice was muffled by the gas mask he wore. "How is progress on clearing out the building?"

"We cleared all the students out," the site advisor, a woman about his age, explained. "We are now preparing for the burn. I see you are already geared up."

Chris nodded, the buckling on his body clinking at the slight motion. His normal fatigues had been replaced with heavier materials, and treated carefully to prevent the spreading of flame. The rather large fuel tank hung on his back, but did little more than make his already large frame more imposing. "It's a shame all these buildings have to go. Still we can't take any risks."

"Agreed. According to Bindi's testimony, they travelled through a number of buildings during their uncontained period. It's a miracle there hasn't been a secondary infection."

Chris agreed silently, shifting slightly to rest the weight of the flamethrower more easily. It was surprisingly refreshing to be on the ground for a standard clean. He felt better when he was doing the BSAA's good work on the ground.

He watched from the corner of his mask as the crew kept track of all the operations. He did not envy their job in the slightest. The logistics of this mission were particularly horrifying, seeing as they were tearing down a whole academy.

"All teams are clear of the building, and the wind is not slated to pick up for some time. We can begin the burn." Chris nodded, shrugging the pack into place before stepping forward, each footfall sounding heavily on the wet grass.

Planting himself on the ground, he unhitched the nozzle, lifting it towards the building. Taking a deep breath, he yanked back, letting the flame shoot forth. Instantly, he could feel the heat radiating off the tool, and he was thankful for his mask, even as the hairs on his neck began to feel uncomfortable under the layers of fabric.

Slowly, he concentrated the stream on one spot, waiting until the washing flames gained a foothold before sweeping slowly to the side. The rain the night before was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, they did not have to worry about burning the rainforest down on accident, but it also made their job harder.

As he focused on spreading the flames as efficiently as possible, he let the back half of his mind ponder the bigger picture.

There was still someone out there with their hands on a virus that seemed to combine the worst features of the t and g together, and unless they stopped them, scenes like this would only become more common. They had been lucky this time, but there was no guarantee for the future.

Chris had very few ideas about who it could have been. None of the people on the watchlist had any kind of facilities nearing the level of study this would have required, and since Wesker's death, the samples of the virus had been largely rounded up and destroyed or otherwise taken care of. There was certainly a possibility that some were still at large; in fact, he counted on it. But most threats had been nipped in the bud, so something of this scale was concerning to say the least.

The BSAA would certainly have its hands full trying to find their mystery woman. All they had was a vague description of the woman in question, and that would not be enough to find her. Still, there were not a whole lot of women in the field of bioterrorism sales, so it did narrow it down some.

In the meanwhile, he had another problem; what to do with Bindi. She had been contained, that much was certain. Still, he couldn't help but feel mixed about her containment. On the one hand, he still felt a sense of concern about how calm and collected she was. She could well just be waiting for some opening, and then strike right at the heart of the organization that would oppose her. He doubted she could truly pull it off, but he was not willing to risk the lives of his men on it.

On the other hand, she had been more than cooperative, even to her own detriment. Her testimony to the willful infection of innocents (even if she did not consider them such), would be damning in just about any court. With how much she had provided though, he felt certain they could claim protection over her, even if it her crimes had not been fully forgiven.

But as long as she was under BSAA custody, she would not be able to go anywhere without the BSAA's knowledge and command. The second they decided to let her go, all bets were off about what would happen to her. If she wasn't rounded up to face her crimes, she could well be grabbed by someone wanting to cut into the viral market.

Her only real option was to stay with the BSAA.

Chris knew enough about prisoner psychology to know that without any kind of activity, Bindi would likely become stir-crazy, and that would not end well. She would have to be given something to do. And while he was not entirely sold on the idea, there were very limited things they could do for her, and combat training was one of those.

He had an idea on that front, but he would have to make a few calls. A snapping sound restored his concentration, and he watched with satisfaction as a section of the wall seemed to buckle. A few other team members had joined him, quickly engulfing the building in flames.

"That should be enough. Pull back to behind the safety perimeter."

"Understood," Chris confirmed, releasing the nozzle. The sound of the flame dying was loud but brief, and he waited a moment before putting it back onto the pack. Turning around, he headed back towards the command center.

"I need to make a call," Chris excused himself, walking towards the sterilization lock. Compared to normal, the procedure for cleaning took a lot longer, especially to get out of his fire clothing, but he felt a lot lighter in the end, emerging into the sterile mobile center.

"What time is it in DC right now?"

"About 0100 sir."

Chris frowned, but nodded. Pulling out his comms device, he punched in the number, stepping into one of the unoccupied offices as it rang. To his surprise, the phone was picked up.

"Chris. Wasn't expecting to hear from you."

"Hope I'm not interrupting," Chris apologized before continuing quickly. "A situation has come up that I believe one of your agents would be most helpful with."

He could hear the sound of blankets being pushed off in a hurry on the other end. "Details?"

"We'll send over a file shortly. My team has to finish clearing a site, but I will authorize the transfer of files to you shortly. I need to know if you will be willing to loan us one of your agents for a brief period."

"They will have to decide for themselves, but you have my go-ahead. I'll want to see that file first, but I trust you."

"Glad to hear it. You should have the file in the next half hour."

"Understood. Anything else?"

"Say hi to Sherry and the others for me," Chris said with a small smile. "Other than that, nothing else. Thanks for the help."

"No problem. Leon out."


	5. Chapter 5

Mild warning for some body horror in this chapter.

Chapter 5

Night had fallen over the jungle, sinking it into a darkness that was normally answered by the sound of night life.

However, as the flames burned up, the only sound was the crackling in the air, and the crash of the infrastructure.

A woman looked out onto the sight with a mild frown. Standing tall atop a cliff face, she seemed to be unaffected by anything as she held up her phone, a strange, cubic looking device. A small inset picture revealed that it was recording.

"Unfortunately, the test was unable to reach its conclusion due to the interception of the BSAA, as well as the inability of the test subject to carry through on the plan. Aggression will have to be increased in the next strain," the woman narrated, her face underlit by both the phone and the flames, revealing a fair, narrow face with an Asian complexion. A crimson scarf was wrapped about her neck, matching the flames.

"Promising results from C16. Not only displayed unusual levels of loyalty only seen in one other test subject thus far. Intelligence seems fairly limited, but it was able to respond to commands and avoid detection remarkably well. Gained an aerial infection vector, but secondary infections seem weaker than those directly injected."

"C17 also promising. Highly mutable features, along with exceptional regeneration. Took a shot clean through the head and survived with no signs of brain damage. Was able to manifest mutations at will. However, too much independent thought was retained, and subject was captured."

The woman's frown deepened, and she seemed to glare at a spot in the far distance. Looking down at her phone, she zoomed in closer, the screen working to counter the blurring of the flames. She narrowed in on one particular figure, garbed in heavy clothing and wielding a flamethrower.

"Chris Redfield. Captain in the BSAA and one of its earliest founders. His involvement on the site resulted in the loss of both subjects, as well as the failure of the test. Reputation as a staunch defender against bioterrorism. Notable for bringing Wesker down, even at the peak of his power. If plans go through correctly, he shouldn't be a problem, but surveillance will be added, just in case."

The woman seemed to pause a moment before continuing. "If he does interfere, he will be eliminated. Consult personnel file for specifics."

With that, she flipped the phone closed, sliding it into a pocket in her dress, the blue being briefly illuminated by the light before being engulfed by the darkness again. Looking up, she regarded the smoke rising up with an almost casual air.

Finally, she smiled slightly, turning on her heel, disappearing into the jungle.

* * *

Bindi lay on the table, staring boredly at the ceiling. After everything that had happened, it seemed kind of boring now. Like it all hadn't happened. Simply by lifting her arm she could confirm it was not the case though. Taking a deep breath, she gently curled her finger, feeling the muscles working underneath the repaired skin.

But now there was a different feeling. It felt almost like every thin shred of flesh and bone inside was supporting itself, working in waves to mimic the same outward motion. Squinting, she focused on just a single finger, flexing it. If she looked closely, she could almost see the slices in her skin from where the muscles did not work quite in perfect unison.

Spreading her hand, she watched in passive interest as it split apart like a blooming flower. Accompanying the odd sight was an increase in heat, and she could hear the hiss of charring and steam escaping her now ripped apart arm. Inside, the flesh had been turned from red to an almost sickly looking mix of brown and green. Small amounts of slime, similar to what she had seen Nanan get encased in, leaked over the edges, and she could only wonder what it was made of.

Inside, she could see some of the bones, secured in place by some of the surviving muscles. Flexing slightly, she watched as she moved them around, shuffling the places of all the fragments. It was equally fascinating and horrifying to watch, but only a smile came to her expression.

Slowly, she forced her arm to extend. As she did, she could feel the flesh rolling over itself in an attempt to make her imagination possible. The tips began to cling together, limiting her reach, but she could still extend it quite a distance, and a small test confirmed she still had full control over the entire length.

Regarding it, she began to have a thought. Pulling back some of the end, she allowed the material to rush back some, pooling at her command. She mimicked the motion of clenching her fist, and watched as the flesh pressed against itself, flattening down. The slime seemed to pour out more freely, becoming less watery as she pressed harder. As the last bits sealed up, she smiled in awe of the appendage she had fashioned.

The thing base of flesh and bone she had used had only been expanded upon by the hardened, glass like sheets of slime that hung off of it. Thin but muscular extensions from the arm pierced parallel to the sheets, forming long, boney fingers. Flexing experimentally, she found she could still compress it all together, twisting the blade-like edge into a variety of shapes.

Swinging, she heard the satisfying sound of the air being cut, and smiled as she regarded the weapon. The tentacle she had made earlier was nothing compared to this. This was an actual weapon, formed of her own body.

In a way, it looked a bit like a wing. The blade almost resembled that of a bat, and she couldn't help but find the poetry in it. Gracia was supposed to be the pure, good woman of God, and Bindi had dedicated herself to bringing her down. In a way, she felt she also played a part in the plan, serving to cut down the corrupt messenger of God. In the end, she hadn't been able to kill her, but she would have to face the music, and submit. The thought of Gracia being stripped of her titles and untouchability widened Bindi's smile and she clenched her wing-blade, feeling the muscles straining against each other.

It felt powerful. After so long helpless to stop corruption, she finally had the power to make change. A thought turned her smile to a frown.

The woman who gave her the serum.

Why had she given it to her? Before then, the only thing she had to her name was the fact she was in a prestigious school. She wasn't even the most popular person, or the best looking. Not that either of those mattered considering what the virus did.

Suddenly it occurred to her, why the woman had appeared in that rain drenched night; she knew Bindi was at her weakest. She would have no restraints about using the virus.

The thought was almost enough to make Bindi see red, and she jumped off the table, suddenly realizing her own stupidity. _How could I have been so blind?_ No doubt, the same woman was using the results for some kind of experiment. And she knew exactly what the data would be used for.

In her desire to rid the world of one evil, she had accidentally thrust a worse one upon the world.

Bindi went completely silent, letting her anger silently pour out of her, clenching her fists tightly as the flesh on her arms began to peel. She felt so mad, it was beginning to make her feel warm. It was only when she began to hear the steam that she realized it wasn't her anger causing the heat.

Looking down, her arms had begun to split, the muscles straining in each direction while steam poured out. She suddenly felt light-headed, and tried to will her arms back together, struggling to get the parts to resist their outward advance. Eventually, she managed to get it under control, her anger long having turned to panic.

Her right hand reassembled faster, and she clutched the wrist of her left, pulling the pieces together manually. Behind her, she could hear the door, but she could barely even process it as she focused on maintaining pressure. Her vision blinked, and she realized that in her interest, she had failed to consider how much water she had let exit her body through steam and mucus. No doubt she was on the edge of unconsciousness. She had to get her arms back together.

Quickly, she bit on her tongue, feeling pain shock to her brain. She didn't bite hard enough to damage it, but enough to spike her back into full awareness. The adrenaline would only last a short time though.

"What's happening?!" Bindi turned to look up at the figures beside her. At a quick glance, she could only assume that some of them were medical, while others were security. At the moment, she didn't care.

"Help me keep it together!" she pleaded, shakily holding her arm up to show the mess of flesh. The doctor took only a half step back before realizing what they had to do.

"Hand me some of the bandaging!" they demanded, kneeling down on the floor, staining their white uniform with the strange liquid. While they began securing the strips together, Bindi felt her other arm being taken, the same treatment being applied. Even as she watched, she could still feel the heat in her body rising.

"Water, please!" she begged, leaning her head back against the bed. She couldn't tell if they actually heard, but she began breathing deeply, trying to calm down. Maybe if she kept breathing, she could get her temperature to go down.

To her surprise, one of the doctors appeared in front of her, holding a hose. She had just enough time to wonder where it had come from when it turned on, dowsing her with cool, clean water. To her surprise, the flow was not strong enough to sting, and only made her feel much cooler. She could feel her insides begin to settle, and the glow in her flesh began to settle down. After a few moments, the hose was shut off, and she was left with only small tufts of steam spiralling off her.

Weakened, she could only maintain her sitting position as the doctors finished, laying her arms down gently. She could barely see any of her arms, only the wrapping up to about the elbow. Her patient gown was completely soaked, and she could feel herself slipping into the darkness.

As her vision shrunk to a pinpoint, she felt herself being lifted by the security team, and placed onto a gurney. By the time they hit the containment door, she was out cold.

* * *

Manuela took a deep breath of the air as the helicopter began its descent. There was a very familiar feeling to the atmosphere, the moisture and heat reminding her of her old home.

Even so, there were still differences. The jungle looked and sounded different, not to mention the base they hovered above. Below on the platform she could see the people sent to greet her. Seeing them in their combat fatigues, she didn't feel too bad about wearing her uniform either.

The whole thing had been arranged rather quickly, and she scrolled down her tablet quickly, reminding herself of the biggest pieces of information she would need. This virus was different from what she had dealt with, but she would figure it out. She had worked with the others enough that she felt confident this one would solve eventually.

That being said, Nanan's case was something else.

She'd only ever heard of two B.O.W.'s that obeyed orders, and they had a computer system embedded in its head. Not to mention that damage had caused them to disobey in the end. If the report was accurate, this would be an interesting variation.

As the helicopter began to touch down, she slid the tablet into her pack. Securing it on, she stood, gripping the handles as the metal skids hit the tarmac. Compared to some of the things she'd done, the small bump was nothing.

She was through the door before the team even began approaching the vehicle. Two of the group approached, a man and woman. The man was thinner, with pointed features and short brown hair. His gaze was intense, and scrutinous. The woman, meanwhile, had longer hair that she wore in two bundles that hung behind her. Both of them looked very serious.

"You must be Agent Hidalgo," the man greeted, offering his hand.

"That is correct. I believe Captain Redfield was the one who placed the call. Is he here right now? I want to get to work as soon as possible."

"He's in the containment area. We can guide you there," the woman explained, taking the lead.

"Thank you…"

"Piers Nivans. Merah Biji. We both work under Captain Redfield."

"You two were on the mission with him. What can you tell me about the pair?"

"Not too much," Merah admitted. "We didn't fight for very long before the Captain resolved the situation. I would talk more with Ricky though. He fought with a few of the zombies, so he could tell you more about them."

Manuela nodded, adding that to the list of things she would have to get done. She was about to ask more questions when Piers spoke.

"There was an incident during your travel time. Bindi is currently receiving care for some wounds she inflicted upon herself."

"Why did she do that? Is she alright?"

"It was unintentional. She began experimenting with her arms and the mutations caused her to start destabilizing. We were able to bring her back before she went too far though. She is currently under careful quarantine though, and we're not sure how long it will be before she wakes up."

That was worrying. When any of them sustained an injury, it was a very carefully monitored process, with intensive watch and charting, and they were barred from too much physical exertion until their vitals had stabilized. If they were to try and figure out how to help Bindi, they would have to test her.

"Can you get me to her containment?" Merah glanced at her, but Piers just nodded.

"Follow me." They all picked up pace, and Manuela easily noted the way people cleared out of their way. It only made sense; the pair did work under the highest rank operative at the base. They would be given priority.

They soon reached an elevator, and Manuela could sense the tense air as they stepped in. It wasn't the only change in atmosphere. As the elevator went down, she could feel the small chamber sealing up, and the air filters begin working. The only place she knew of that had even remotely as much biological security as this was their own base, and even then, only in the medical labs.

When the doors opened, she could hear the heavy doors slam into place. The containment block could be locked down at the press of a button. "Very impressive security."

"It was only implemented recently. On the off chance we could catch a B.O.W. alive, we deemed it necessary to be able to hold it."

"Of course, we don't tend to bring them back alive," Merah noted, though Manuela noted it wasn't with much disappointment. Piers made no comment, so she could only assume it was fairly normal.

A few doors lined the walls to either side, but she noted there were long gaps between them, which she presumed was for containment. Eventually, they reached the end, which was barred by a massive door. Merah approached it, looking up at a camera.

The door began to open slowly in response, cracking open with the hiss of hydraulics. Through the opening crack, she could begin to see into the room beyond. It looks a bit like a medical lab, mimicking the same pure white of the halls. However, she immediately noticed the guards milling about with nervous attention.

The whole room was vaguely circular shape, with ramps between a submerged central area and the upper envelope. Various reinforced glass doors lead off the main area to various other areas. Manuela noted the signs, counting off a surgical ward, a quarantine, and even a disposal area. Piers lead them around the edge, pushing towards a doorway marked "ICU."

Stepping through the door, Manuela could see into the room beyond, though a sheet of glass prevented them from entering. The girl in the files lay on a table, seemingly out completely. Her right side faced Manuela, and she couldn't see much that looked too out of place, though she did see some discolouration on the arms. Scars?

She heard a door hiss, and looked to see Piers stepping into a side room. "We have to change into medical uniforms and get scrubbed. Come on inside."

Manuela stepped in quickly, used to getting changed for biological hazards. She wasn't too worried about anyone looking at her; they were far too busy, and she'd already come to grips with it. Maybe if they were less busy, or it was closer, but in the cold, sterile changing room, it was simple.

That said, she did catch Merah looking at her arm as they changed into the medical uniforms. The look was neutral, but she could feel the hesitance and anxiety from her as they stood closely. Manuela hurried through the procedure, leaving Merah to her space. A quick dowse later and she was in the medical room.

Standing inline with the head of the bed, she could see the more obvious signs of mutation on Bindi's face. Her left eye was a pale white, with obvious scarring leading into her hair. Circling around, she looked at her body more carefully, inspecting the healed wounds.

"These are still from just before she began to destabilize," Piers explained, interrupting to hand her a folder. Manuela flipped it open, flicking through the images. "We have the videos if you need."

"It looks like she was trying to induce mutations…"

"She seems to have the ability to call them at will," Merah explained. "When we captured her, she spontaneously mutated defenses and weapons. It took her most of the night to revert them though."

"Do we have any pictures of those?"

"I might be able to pull the footage from our body cams," Merah muttered, before nodding. "Give me a sec."

Manuela took a step back while the doctors checked on Bindi. It was somewhat fascinating to watch while they worked small IV lines into her skin. The skin itself almost peeled apart at the seams, and Manuela suddenly felt a lot better about her mutations.

"Here you go. All the mutations we've observed so far." Merah offered the file to Manuela but she motioned over to a table.

"You two saw her in action. I will need your eyes." Manuela walked over to the table, laying the photos out so she could look at all of them. She had never seen this level of mutation in someone while keeping their conscience.

"This is what she was experimenting with before she destabilized." Piers pointed to a still image of Bindi, arm lengthened into a scythe-like limb.

"How long did it take to heal that?"

"A few hours with medical help."

"And the others?"

"The tentacle healed faster than the shield, but it took most of the evening."

Manuela nodded, peering at the pictures. The tentacle seemed really close to the scythe in shape, not to mention on the same limb. Why had it been so much worse? Peering closer, she could see the transition to the tentacle had mainly extended the arm.

Maybe it had to do with the complexity? The scythe had been partially formed of mucus. Creating the substance might have put more drain on her body. Then there was the matter of heat that seemed to be causing the steam. When she was injured, she needed to take a break in order to avoid destabilization.

"For the minute, all we can do is keep her cool. Water helps me when I am injured, so you guys are doing well by keeping her hydrated. It seems like the more she messes with her bodily organs, the more likely she is to destabilize. She needs to avoid mutating rashly, and do so slowly and carefully, if at all." Manuela leaned back as she continued looking at the pictures. "The degree to which she can control it is amazing. None of us have been able to manage anything close to it."

"What do you mean, 'us'?" Merah asked, suspicion in her eyes.

"You see, I belong to an organization…"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"These were your uncle's." Chris set the box on the table in front of Ricky. Reaching inside, he withdrew a stack of file folders, setting them aside. "You're welcome to look through his documents, but I figured you would be more interested in his personal effects."

"Thank you," Ricky responded hollowly as he stood, looking into the box. Reverently, he reached inside, shifting aside a few objects to pick up a picture. Ricky smiled softly as he held it in front of him. Chris did not even have to look at it to know which it was. The photo of Doug and his nephew had always resided on his desk, reminding him of the boy he had raised like his own son.

Now it would serve Ricky to remember his uncle.

Chris gave him a moment to appreciate the picture before reaching into one of the files, where he had stowed one of the pictures. He looked at it for a moment, judging the proper way to present it.

"There was one other picture," Chris interrupted gently, turning the photo around to show Ricky. It displayed a younger woman, wearing a hiking outfit, her hair pulled messily out of her face. Ricky's expression was neutral, and he numbly took the picture.

"This is Mother Gracia, isn't it?"

"Most likely. They used to be close. I would not be surprised. You are welcome to take it, or we can hold onto it," Chris offered respectfully. Ricky's expression did not change, but he gently set the photo inside the box.

"She was important to him. It would be rude of me to get rid of it." Ricky sighed, his shoulders falling. "You know, we almost got through to her. She was almost willing to work with us. Instead, here we are."

Chris said nothing, but put a hand on Ricky's shoulder. The boy smiled, lifting his head. "I am going to make my uncle proud."

"I know you will. Should you ever decide to work with us, his office will be waiting."

"Thanks, but I still have to finish at uni. Once I am done, I will keep it in mind," he said with a smile. Setting his hands on the box, he looked inside again. "If you don't mind, I think I am going to take a look at some of these. Should I..?"

"Feel free to use my office. I have some business to attend to anyway. If you need anything else, just ask." Chris patted Ricky's shoulder once more before leaving the room.

Ricky stood in silence for a good minute, just looking at the items. His uncle didn't seem to have much, but he supposed that made sense. Being an advisor meant he would have travelled a lot, and that made packing a big issue.

The top of the stack was small things, like his uncle's nameplate. _Doug Wright_. Setting it aside, he continued picking through the items, inspecting each one with a mix of reverence and interest. He had only recently begun working with his uncle, so seeing his professional life was interesting.

He could see his uncle's love of travel through the map and guide that were pressed up against the side. A compass also lay in the mix, and he held up the small tool. The image of his uncle hiking through a jungle somewhere in the world made him smile.

 _Hiking_.

The connection in his mind made him look over at the photo of Gracia. What had Doug seen in her? What had she seen in him? Ricky couldn't remember having met her before the incident, but given their ages, they had to have still known each other when he lost his mother. Gracia would have been about twenty when he went to live with Doug.

Had he been the reason for their drifting apart? His uncle was twelve years Gracia's senior, and knowing his uncle, he would have waited until it was a bit more appropriate to get involved. It was the same reason that his uncle had refused to let him work together on his projects. His uncle was always worried he would get hurt.

Doug had cared so much about the people around him. He wouldn't have been surprised to find he still cared deeply about Gracia even these eight years later. Reaching over, he grabbed the photo of himself and his uncle, holding it up beside Gracia's. Something about the smiles and peace in the pictures was almost painful.

Suddenly regretting his decision, he put them aside, covering them with the map. He would deal with that later. Instead, he looked back in the box, ignoring his uncle's documentation. The BSAA could deal with those.

His hand brushed something that felt like hard metal and plastic, and he grabbed hold of it. Pulling it out from under the documents, he was surprised to find a camera. It was a nice one as well.

That was one thing his uncle and him shared; a love of photography. He had learned most of his skills from his uncle. That was back when Doug had just been a microbiology professor. After the Raccoon City incident, microbiologists were in high demand, and his uncle had taken a job as an advisor, eager to help. It was the most active he had seen his uncle in years.

It had been hard travelling so much, but his uncle taught him to take pictures to make memories. Even when he grew old enough to move onto the campus, he still kept up his photography.

Holding the camera close, he ran his fingers over it, cherishing the item. He would never let it leave his possession. Taking a deep breath, he began packing his things carefully, making sure not to break anything. Finally, he got to the photo frames, and he could not help but look at them again.

A stray thought crossed his mind, and he wavered a moment before setting Gracia's picture in the box. Still holding the other photo, he stepped out of the office.

* * *

Chris stepped into the secondary observation, noticing the extra security compared to Bindi's. He couldn't blame them either.

The room was surprisingly silent, with only the salutes breaking the silence, followed by a reflexive "at ease." He had expected more chaos. Looking into the room, he could understand the reason for the silence.

Nanan stood in the center of the room, unflinchingly still. In the bright lights of the containment room, he could more clearly see details he had missed before. Things like the eerily dead expression she wore. While the left half of her face was obscured and warped by the strange suckers, the other side was untouched. The only signs of her inhumanity were the slightly pale discolouration, and the thousand yard stare of her undamaged eye. When she had been fighting, it had always stared straight ahead.

What he had initially thought was an unchanged torso was more mutated than they could have expected. It was more appropriate to call it a stalk. While still thick, it served mainly as a base for the seven large tentacles that ringed her neck and chest, with thinner ones snaking in between. The more he looked at the tentacles, the more disturbing they were. The bases almost looked like shoulders, and there appeared to be rudimentary bone structures in the uppermost ones, but they all degenerated into muscles and flesh near the end.

"What has she been doing?"

"When nothing is happening, she is still. If she sees anything though, she charges it. She makes some kind of clicking noise. We think it might be echolocation, but we don't currently have a test for that. We're already working on it."

"Good. The more we know about the mutation the better. I doubt we'll have much time before we see it deployed on the battlefield. If these things can see better in the dark than us, we'll have to adapt. Anything else?"

"The samples we retrieved displayed different results." Chris was handed a file, and he began skimming it as the scientist kept talking. "On the one hand, a skin sample found that she is indeed capable of aerosolizing the virus inside her, but it's weaker than the initial dose. Even her saliva is weaker."

"What does this mean?"

"We suspect she's not a complete success. Given enough time, we might be able to cap off the weakened secondary vectors. They are barely enough to cause harm in a large area, and would only really pose a threat in close proximity. If we can create a basic antigen for the weakened virus, she will be completely inert."

"Can we cure it entirely?" Chris was hopeful, but he knew there was usually a catch.

"Unfortunately not. The actual virus in her bloodstream is a much more complex virus. In order to facilitate the aerial infection, it has to reproduce rapidly, which damages and simplifies the virus. We can start working backwards from there, but it is orders of magnitude harder to solve. Someone very much created this virus."

Chris was worried that was the case. This whole thing was a bad sign. The mixture of features seemed to coincidental. Most mutations they dealt with had a drawback, whether it was a loss of intelligence or a weakness, but this seemed like a step towards a perfect virus.

"Get teams to work on it. Even if we can only make a little progress, every bit counts. We will be fighting more of these, I can tell. So what can you tell me about how to combat it?"

"If Bindi's account is to believed, total body damage is the best trick. It will only heal injured spots. Enough damage fast enough causes the body to overheat, and become unable to heal itself."

"Make a note in the troop deployment that the new mutation is to be met with maximum force. After the first few fights, we can re-evaluate the amount of weaponry needed."

"Yes sir," the scientist confirmed, typing up the memo. Chris turned back to the enclosure, stepping up to the glass. Looking at Nanan, he was glad they had resolved the encounter peacefully.

Still, it was only thanks to the bit of humanity left in Bindi. Had she ended up more like Nanan, things would have been worse. Which one was the virus supposed to be more like?

Somehow, he felt like it wasn't supposed to be either. It wasn't done yet. It would never be done. The virus would just end up in the wrong hands and change again. This even looked professional. This kind of modification took time and resources. Someone connected.

Some days, it was almost enough to make him give up.

Clenching his fist, he shoved the thought aside. If he had given up, he never would have found Jill, or stopped Wesker and Il Veltro. The world would be in anarchy and fear. If he gave up, then everyone who died would mean nothing.

Closing the file, he laid it on the table. "Has she responded to conversation?"

"No sir. Not outside of normal aggression. Would you like to try?"

"If it won't cause a problem."

"No problems sir. Just let me start a new active recording." Chris stepped up to the glass as the file was started. He motioned for the view to be opened, watching as the glass took on a slightly different sheen.

Nanan noticed immediately, her gaze snapping towards him. Her lips parted, seeming to almost have to be forced apart on her left. Her throat wavered, and Chris' eyes narrowed as he waited. Soon, a cracking sound emerged from Nanan, and as it found its way through, it warped into a clicking sound. It half reminded Chris of a rattlesnake, warning off a potential threat.

The first step she took was misleading. Despite the crooked angle of her leg, she was quite stable. The next one came much faster, and she soon rushed the glass, her tentacles slamming against it in an attempt to break through to her prey. Chris wasn't worried; it was designed to hold B.O.W.'s on Tyrant levels.

Still, the sudden change was startling. His only encounter had lead him to believe she was more seek and destroy, but she was really more like an automated drone. She could be commanded to head somewhere and do something, but her default state was to destroy anything that got near her.

It kind of reminded him of the Plaga. He would have to talk with the security analysts to see if any samples of Plaga had surged up in the last few months. He doubted it, but it was worth checking.

"Nanan, do you understand me?"

Nanan's attack ceased for all of about a second before she continued.

"Nanan, please stop attacking the glass."

This time the hesitation was a little more evident. She paused just long enough to look at him before continuing. At the very least, it seemed like she could recognize something, though he was not sure what part she understood. This was not his area of expertise. After Manuela had fixed Bindi's problem, she could take a look at Nanan. He doubted there was much they could do, but it was worth a shot.

"Have we tried a female voice?"

"Not yet. Would you like us to try that?"

"Try and pick a younger candidate, or one from this region. The closer to Bindi, the better."

"Yes sir! Right away!"

Chris nodded his thanks, stepping away as the glass reverted back to its single directional mode. Nanan continued to attack the glass for a short while before slowing down and staring at what she could only see as a solid wall. Realizing her prey had gotten away, she stepped back, returning slowly to her previous spot, once again going still.

Chris had to admit it was eerie. The only time he had seen this kind of behaviour was with advanced Tyrants or Plaga. Anything you couldn't expect was a risk in the field. He would have to personally make sure his teams were up to scratch before deployment.

In the meanwhile, he figured he might check on Piers and Merah. He trusted them to handle the process of guiding Manuela, but he wanted to be there for some of the process, so information had to be repeated less times.

* * *

Ricky suddenly did not feel super confident with his decision. He hadn't faltered even when passing the security.

But now, as he entered the cell, he could feel all his confidence die. Mother Gracia sat at the table, looking at him with a mixture of neutrality and light disdain. Self consciously, he gripped the picture closer, putting it into his pocket before she could see it.

"Hey there," he tried, realizing just how casual it sounded.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice betraying her anger, even as she kept her composition.

"I just kind of wanted to...talk. May I take a seat?"

"I do not see why not. I no longer make the rules."

Ricky sat down across from her nervously, noting how she had averted her gaze. "I uhhh...wanted to ask you about something?"

"Is it about how I messed up? Why I had people killed? How I feel now that I am no longer in charge? Ask away child, but know I will not grant you the satisfaction," she replied vindictively. Ricky cringed a little at the edge in her voice, but held fast, knowing he had to do it sooner or later.

"Actually...I just wanted to ask if you wanted this," Ricky offered quietly, handing her a copy of his uncle's picture. Gracia went quiet, regarding the picture with a flat expression. For a minute, Ricky was worried that she was going to say nothing until he left, but then she silently lifted a hand, pausing halfway to the picture. As he finger slowly touched the paper, she tilted it up, taking it in her hands. Bringing it before her, she looked down on it, running a hand along it.

"He looked so much younger back then...how long had it been?" Gracia wondered aloud. "I...thank you."

"No problem. It was one of his personal possessions. He uh...had a photo of you too. You were obviously important to him." Gracia's expression fell, and she gently set the photo down, keeping one hand on it.

"He was important to me too. I just wish I had realized how much he was before...before my mistake got him killed. He was a good man."

"Do you mind if I ask about how close you were?"

"I loved him, and I think he loved me. Tell me, did he ever see anyone after me?"

"Not that I knew of. My family used to worry about him because of it. All he did was look after me and work," Ricky recalled. Chewing his lip, he decided to try another question. "Did you know about me?"

"Doug and I had not been together for long when he began taking care of you. I met you a couple of times if I recall correctly. Not long after that, my uncle died, and I became the Headmaster of the academy. As a Mother, I couldn't keep seeing Doug, and he became busy. We drifted apart after that." Mother Gracia sighed, closing her eyes. "It doesn't matter now. Doug is dead because I couldn't let go of my failures. I could blame my uncle all I want, but in the end, I was the one in charge."

Ricky said nothing. He felt bad for Gracia, but at the same time he could not argue with her. His uncle, the man who raised him, was dead because of her. Gracia seemed to realize it herself, taking a breath before continuing. "So, what will you be doing now?"

"I have to finish at my college, but I think I will look into photography. My uncle left behind a nice camera. It feels like a shame to not use it."

"He always did love photography," Gracia agreed.

"Captain Redfield offered me my uncle's office should I ever decide to work with the BSAA. I'm not sure what I could offer them, but if it helps people, I don't see why I shouldn't come back."

"You're just like your uncle. He was always wanting to help people too. Just remember to take care of yourself too," Gracia added. "Thank you for the photo. I had worried I would have nothing to remember him by."

"I would like to ask a small favour. When you become a photographer, would you send me some of the photos? I would like that very much."

"Of course Mother Gracia."

"You can just call me Gracia," she assured, looking visibly tired. "You know, I expected you to come in here and chew me out. I was willing to accept it too. I don't think I was ready for you to be nice to me."

"My uncle was nice to everyone. I see no reason why I shouldn't try to be more like him. Besides, I have not forgiven you for everything, but I can't bring him back. The least I can do is help you find peace."

"Even if you forgive me, I must forgive myself. But thank you for the thought. I should let you go. I would hate to take up any more of your time."

Ricky nodded, standing. "I'll send a letter, okay? My uncle thought you were special, and I want to know more about him. See you around."

"See you around, Ricky."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Bindi clutched her cross in her hand, feeling reassured by its relative coolness. She had been wearing it when she had her...incident. The cool metal was a reminder that she was stable now.

Turning it around in her hands, she looked at the small and simple design. It was not a fancy cross, but just enough. Her mind wandered as she spun it around idly.

When Nanan had died, she had prayed for anybody to be able to help her. Some kind student to notice they were gone, Nanan's parents to notice her disappearance, even Gracia to be sorry. No one had answered.

Almost no one.

While Bindi could still feel her blood boil both literally and figuratively as she thought about the hooded woman, she could not disregard what it had given her. Looking at her hands holding the cross, she wondered if there was a price she had yet to pay for it.

Looking back on it, her life had been pointless before now. Being a member of a corrupt school council, and not even having real power before that. An ace student, but what would she have done with it? What kind of change?

Clenching her hand, she could feel her muscles tense. She was beyond anything she could have ever been. Someone had answered her prayers. Now, she had been given the power to help people.

God had answered her prayers, and she had become something more.

But she wasn't the only one. They had told her about a specialist, come specifically to see her. Someone like her, with a virus.

 _Manuela Hidalgo_. The reason she sat waiting in the room. Bindi wasn't sure how to feel. Threatened? She didn't think the BSAA would call someone in to try and do that. Maybe it was supposed to garner sympathy.

The sound of the containment doors caught Bindi's attention, and she turned to face the doors. There was always about a minute delay between the outer doors sealing and the inner ones opening. Even now, she could hear the tricklings of the voices through the door.

Her senses had definitely improved, that much was certain. She still couldn't hear everything, but she had heard more than was likely intended to reach her ears.

Things like the mutation potential of her virus, as well as some of the notes on Nanan. She was still trying to figure out what to do with those.

The inner doors finally began to hiss open, and Bindi felt a strange sense of anticipation creep over her. She found herself eagerly peering at the break in the metal, waiting for the person to step through and out.

Bindi was a little surprised at her appearance. She was definitely Hispanic, but her figure seemed much taller than the few she had met. She was in prime condition, and Bindi could see muscles hidden underneath the uniform that easily outstripped her own, even with the augmentation.

Despite the careful, poised way she held herself as she stepped in, the woman wore a gentle expression, her eyes fixing on Bindi. A small smile came to her face, but it seemed less patronizing than Bindi was expecting.

"You must be Manuela Hidalgo," Bindi tried, fairly confident in her guess. The woman nodded, staying by the doorway.

"Si, you are correct. I am here to try and work with you."

"What do you mean? I thought the BSAA wasn't going to work with me," Bindi questioned, suddenly suspicious.

"I am not a member of the BSAA. I am with the US. May I come closer?"

Bindi shrugged, though she still felt herself tense as Manuela approached. In contrast to her own ill concealed tension, Manuela seemed relaxed, though Bindi had no doubt she was ready for trouble. "The BSAA wants to help you, but they have nobody trained to work with people like us. At the moment at least."

"What do you mean by that?"

Manuela smiled, looking her in the eye. As Bindi watched, she saw a hint of red flash in between the blue stripes of her irises. Reflexively, Bindi raised a hand to her own face, wondering how her one good eye must look.

"So what are you going to do?"

"At first, just talk. We don't know a lot about your mutations, so we need to pin down some specifics. After that we can begin work. But before any of that, I wanted to get to know you a bit. The viruses tend to change depending on who they infect, so knowing more about you can help predict how it may change."

"What is your mutation?" Bindi asked with a bitter smile. She could see nothing wrong with the woman in front of her. Increased strength was hardly a curse. Bindi's thoughts rescinded as Manuela began to roll up her sleeve, revealing the beginning of green mottling along her arm. It got worse the further up the arm it went, eventually becoming full scales, with a snake emblem raised in her skin.

"Aside from that, I have a similar problem to you. When I bleed, it burns. Unlike you, it is not just heat and steam. My blood catches fire." Bindi's eyes widened at the image, suddenly feeling a little bit less worse about her circumstances. "I will say I have more control, so I do not have to worry about the same instability you do. But that is why I want to work with you."

"Why does it matter? The BSAA would never let me go."

"You would be surprised. Perhaps I should tell you more about who I work with…"

* * *

"Get me the reports on the incident. I want people tracing it back and analyzing it stat!"

Chris barely listened to the affirmatives around him as he orchestrated the chaos in the command center. Images were put up on the screen of the incident. A man, garbed in an Edonian rebel uniform, lay on his back, shot to death. But most concerning was the obvious signs of mutation. The slickened skin, and extra eyes on his face were not normal, but it was nowhere near the level of mutation of the G-Virus. Official reports had yet to come in from their European teams, but Chris had his suspicions.

It was the new virus.

Every time a war broke out, it set the BSAA into high alert. Edonia had been in civil resistance, and it was only a matter of time until full fledged civil war followed. As morbid a thought as it was, Chris always prayed that if war did break out, it would be a war of conventional weaponry.

Glancing back up at the screen, he only felt more certain it was the new virus. For now, they were calling it the Marhawa Virus, or M-Virus for short. Seeing the milky eyes on the body, he could only think of Bindi. Even the muscle tearing seemed consistent.

"Urgent call from Captain Valentine." Chris barely even nodded to his informant before picking up a phone, transferring the call.

"Jill. What's the situation?"

"We're on the ground. Securing the site was not a problem; now we are just trying to find the path of the source. It's a lot harder than normal, since a lot of the security is down due to the war."

"Understood. Do you need any additional support?"

"Negative. We have enough men to track this operation. Save the men for potential conflicts. We'll be fine, I promise."

"Alright. If anything happens, we'll back you up," Chris promised.

"I know. Jill out." Chris set the phone down, feeling both reassured and concerned by the call. With Jill leading the mission of tracking the source of the virus, he felt confident they would find it that much faster. On the other hand, it was concerning to think that she was in the path of the new virus.

He was being too concerned, he reminded himself. Even without her immunity, she was more than a match for anything they might encounter. He had nothing but faith in her.

The situation would not fix itself though. If nothing surfaced quickly, they would have to step in quickly to save innocents. That would undoubtedly cause problems with the local government, but if either side was responsible for the shipping of the new pathogen, he didn't care. They had a job to do.

With all luck, it would be resolved soon. The agents had their window, and all he could do was prepare for the worst, and hope for the best.

* * *

"Nanan...there you are."

Bindi gently raised her hand to Nanan's face, running her fingers over the smooth, unmarred half. She had such a beautiful face, even now. Putting her other hand on the marked side, she felt the material. It was somewhere between chitin and sponge. It resisted changing its shape, but by moving aside, almost like a thin, but sturdy film.

Her fingers traced the edges, and she could feel the cracking and scarring that snaked all the way to her nose. Her own scars tingled in sympathy, and she gently lowered a hand to guide one of Nanan's tentacles to her face. The muscular appendage was exceptionally gentle, laying along the scars.

"See? We match now?" Something about the thought made Bindi smile. They had always been close of mind, now they shared some features. Besides, Nanan was still stronger than her. She always had been.

Remembering the other person in the room, she gently let go of Nanan's face, pulling away, realizing she had completely ignored the tentacled embrace that had snaked around her. Even so, she met no resistance as she pulled away.

"Nanan, this is Manuela. She is going to be working with us." Nanan stared ahead, and Bindi was surprised to see Manuela was rather calm.

"This must be the friend the file mentioned. She is quite impressive." Bindi couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face. Of course, Nanan was impressive.

"So, what did you want us both for?" Bindi asked, her suspicion coming back. She was grateful to be with her friend again, but there was no way it didn't cost anything.

"I wanted to see how you two work together. To understand. Personal bonds are important. Trust me on this one," Manuela assured, a small note of sadness tinting her voice.

"So what should we do?"

"Show me how you talk to her. There are not many at her stage that listen to anything."

Bindi nodded, turning to Nanan. Though Nanan looked through her, she could tell her gaze and attention was on her. "Nanan, I want you to go around the edge of this room and come back to me."

Nanan didn't acknowledge, but stepped back, slowly turning as if she were on ice. The disconnect between her head and the constant movement around her base was disorienting to watch, but she quickly reached the wall once she faced the right direction.

Bindi had expected her to move much slower, but Nanan rushed along the wall, eerily silent despite the multitude of limbs working together. When she neared the wall, she did not lose speed, instead, tilting her whole body like a wheel. Combined with a few of her muscular limbs pushing against the wall, she easily cornered while keeping speed.

The same pattern repeated for the other sections before she returned to Bindi, looking as neutral as ever. Bindi, for her part, was smiling proudly. It was fascinating to watch Nanan work. She'd only gotten to witness Nanan in action personally a couple of times, and they had been very rewarding. The image of Alisa's body twitching in protest as it filled with pathogen made her smile widen slightly.

Then the image of her in shackles made it go straight back down. At the time, she had been frustrated by the foiling of her plan, but now...the moment of fear of her own mutation that she had before blacking out made her more sympathetic. Alisa was terrible, but the thought of someone else suffering that much pain and fear robbed her of all satisfaction.

"Amazing," Manuela commented breathlessly, interrupting Bindi's thoughts. Turning, she was surprised to see Manuela was not horrified, but rather...intrigued? "This reminds me of the Ivy +YX's…"

"The what?"

"They were a B.O.W. developed by infusing a plant with the t-virus. Mobile and deadly. There is actually a lot they had in common with Nanan's body structure." Manuela seemed to eye her up and down, as if thinking. "How well can she operate on just the tips?"

"I am not sure actually," Bindi admitted, unsure of where this was going. Nonetheless, she conveyed the implied request. Bindi wasn't sure what exactly it was Manuela was looking for, but as the questions kept coming, she couldn't help but lose herself in the process.

It both interested and upset Bindi how quickly Manuela was able to pick up on their bond. On the one hand, they were testing things she would have never thought of. Things like memorizing hand signals, or complex commands. Already, Nanan seemed to have learned basic "go" and "return" hand signals. Manuela seemed to think they could push it further with more practice.

But on the other hand...Nanan and her had always had a close bond. When Nanan came back, Bindi was the only one she would listen to. Even now, she was the only thing preventing an incident. Only she could understand Nanan. But as they worked, she realized to her dismay that Manuela was quickly getting to understand how much of Nanan was left, and what had changed.

"I think that is enough for now," Bindi interrupted, feeling emotionally drained all of a sudden. Manuela looked at her for a moment but just nodded.

"Fair enough. You have been more than helpful. Well, that should do it for now. Is there anything you want to ask about?"

Bindi frowned slightly. She honestly didn't care, but the sooner this ended, the sooner she would be forced back to her containment. She had just gotten Nanan back. "Nothing comes to mind."

"Alright. If you need anything, I will be on the other side of the glass," Manuela assured. Bindi was silent for a moment as she processed what had been implied.

"Wait...you mean I am going to be in here?"

"Unless you don't want to be?" Manuela replied, half confused.

"No I...I want to be here. I just...didn't think it would happen."

"Why not?"

Bindi had so many reasons she wanted to reply with. That Marhawa had isolated students from their families. It had isolated the rich from the poor. It had isolated friends from friends. And it had isolated more than friends. The last one was nearly enough to break her composure, so instead she just remained quiet.

Manuela seemed to understand, sighing slightly. To Bindi, it looked like she had suddenly aged several years. Her voice lacked the energetic edge it had earlier. "The BSAA helps people. You two are people too, despite what others might think. We want to help, and that means we don't try and cut you off from your friends."

Bindi was silent as Manuela left, informing the guards she was exiting the room. Neither of them said anything as the doors opened, and Manuela sent her a gentle smile as the doors sealed behind her. Suddenly realizing the reality of her promise, she turned, smiling to Nanan.

"Come here Nanan. Let me see you." Bindi extended her hand, touching Nanan's face as the taller girl leaned down, allowing Bindi to touch their foreheads together. Around her, she could feel Nanan's muscular tentacles circling around her protectively. Even now, Nanan was trying to defend her.

Nanan had given her life to protect her. Bindi had been given another chance to be with her friend by God, and now she was in a position where she could do something. As she hugged Nanan back, feeling their similarly mismatched skin graze, she promised herself one thing.

She would protect Nanan now.

* * *

Chris' Edonian campaign arrives soon, and I think there will be only a couple chapters more at most of this before that begins, along with a chapter of Calm of the Storm for the events leading up to Sherry's end.

I decided to explain Jill's absence in the events of RE6 with her being on a separate mission to try and track the source of the infection. Given her history with the Delta Force, it makes sense for her to be good at that kind of thing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The first day, Bindi requested books, unsure of whether the request would be granted. To her surprise, it had been, and promptly.

She had sat down on the edge of her bed, laying the books in stacks by content. The first one she had picked up was an old, weathered manual. It bore the American flag in one corner proudly, a dash of colour on an otherwise manilla document. When she opened it, it smelt of gunpowder and storage with other old papers.

The old army manual was hardly the material she would have read in school. Even if she had been a guy, it would have been out of the question. A private academy like Marhawa existed so far above conflict that it never would have entered the same domain of thought, save to recite historical factoids or numerics. Even then, it would have been some bleached version ready for the elite sent to the school.

A pang had shot through her face, and she had clutched her abnormal eye. Rubbing around her eye, the pain of the gunshot sparked in her mind, remembering how close she was to blacking out and never returning. Her peers would never understand that pain.

As the last of the pain faded away, she had opened the manual, reading the primer. Some habits died hard, she later reflected. If there was one thing she was thankful for, it was that Marhawa had taught her how to digest the material well.

The intro was quite boring, and basically served as a quick primer to the concepts and practices that would be covered in the document. She did have to give the army credit where it was due; the intro was succinct and carefully worded for efficiency and clarity.

Looking through the diagrams, she was able to quickly hazard that the hardest part would just be remembering everything. There were signs for everything, and it had begun to dawn on her that even the simple things they had worked with Nanan on were the tip of the iceberg. Some she wondered if Nanan would even be able to learn.

She had felt a bit odd, practicing hand gestures and their accompanying motions with no one around. The fact that the scientists on the other side of the glass were probably watching everything was not great either, but she had dealt with her fellow students long enough.

She supposed duplicity had become natural.

The second day she had been rather unmotivated to continue reading. The pain in her face had been particularly bad. She had spent most of that day under observation to monitor her status. So instead of reading, she had listened, and watched.

The air had been significantly more tense, she had noticed. Something was going on, and it was not related to her. It was then she noticed that Captain Redfield hadn't come to see her. Or any of the others in his team. The only one she recognized was Manuela.

If she had to guess, there was something they were preparing for. An attack maybe? Maybe someone was coming to try and capture her. She hadn't considered that possibility.

That had managed to get her out of her slump. Despite the pain in her face, she had put her mind to preparing herself. There was only one problem.

She had no training in defending herself.

She had already spent a decent time doing what she could only hope was a good exercise routine. That had given her time to appreciate the changes her body had gone through a bit more. Before, she would have been ashamed to admit how weak she was, but now she could do a few exercises.

At the current moment, she was pushing to see how many push ups she could do. Of all the exercises she had done thus far, this one was giving her the most issues. As she lowered herself down, she couldn't help but feel the shattered bones in her arm sliding passed each other. They didn't hurt thankfully, but it made doing push ups harder.

Every up was difficult as her muscles struggled to pull against the broken structures, but she was able to manage it. After only a few though, he arms were getting sore, so she sat back, rubbing it to ease the discomfort. As she ran her hand over the surface, she could feel the broken bits beneath.

Taking a deep breath, she allowed her skin to peel back, splitting like a blooming flower. Inside, she could see the shards nestled into a semblance of bone. Carefully, she touched the edge of the gash, feeling that it was still cool. She knew she would have to cut off experimenting if it got too warm, but this was a problem she had to fix.

Able to see inside, she wished she had taken more medical classes. As it stood, she had no idea which part was which. The larger segments looked familiar, and as she moved the muscles, a few seemed to lock together somewhat, but with notable pieces missing. The large sections seemed pretty stable, but the smaller bits were the ones she felt when exercising. Carefully, she tried moving them around.

She was surprised at just how quickly she was able to rearrange things. The flesh seemed to roil and wave in patterns in just the right conjunction to get the shards together. One of the shards ran up the length of her arm quite fast, and she almost panicked when it looked like it was about to accidentally fall out.

As she pressed it back into place, she had an idea. It was strange, but she had no idea if it was possible. Pressing her hand to the open wound, it felt like she still had some leeway. She would probably only get one chance.

Sealing the wound, she closed her eyes, feeling the shards inside. Twisting her arm, she tried to feel the flesh in her forearm. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes, staring at the wall. Raising her arm, she stared down it, the small divot in her wrist acting as her sights.

With a flick, a small hole opened in her wrist, and a shard of bone flew out, flying through the air before impaling itself into the padding of the wall. The sight made Bindi smile in surprise and success. Even if she was caught weaponless, she would have ways to defend herself. Crossing the room, she grabbed the shard, admiring the sharp segment for a moment before pressing it to her skin, where it sunk through, rejoining with the rest. Her arm was warm to the touch, confirming her suspicions.

Even so, her test had been successful, and that was all she could ask for.

In the meanwhile though, she would have to give her arm a break. Maybe she could actually do a sit up now, she noted with a small smile.

* * *

Chris finished doing his push-up routine, feeling the soreness in his arms. He would have normally pushed himself further, but if the situation escalated, he wanted to be ready, not nursing a sore muscle.

And the situation always escalated.

Twisting, he closed his eyes, trying to plan for the inevitable. It would probably be a suppression mission. That meant a large concentrated force clearing through the infected areas. As it stood, Edonia had given its permission for the BSAA to operate on their grounds, which meant they could get support from the government forces.

He did not envy the people writing the public statements.

Ever since Terragrigia, the world at large had been holding anti-bioterrorism far more liable for the destruction caused as part of their operations. While he would be the first to say that oversight was important, he did have to admit it made his job harder. If he had it his way, they would minimize loss of life by using their vehicles. That way they could still rescue civilians. But the damage caused by tanks was not negligible, and so sometimes it made more sense to send in men, especially into tighter areas.

It didn't help that the BSAA still had a few black marks in its history. It had inherited the assets of the FBC, along with the shadow of its legacy. After all, if the FBC had been actively covering up terrorism, who was to say the BSAA wouldn't? Chris had constantly struggled to prove them wrong, but not every mission went perfectly. While their operation in Africa had ultimately been successful in taking out Wesker, and arguably more importantly Tricell, the death tolls had not looked good. Hundreds of people had died, either in the BSAA's operations, or as a result of Tricell's activities. Even after cutting off the head of the problem, many more people had died.

Sometimes it kept Chris up.

Stepping into the locker room, he navigated automatically to his locker. Opening it, he looked down at the small collection of items. Flicking up his shirt, his hand brushed the insignias, including his most recent rank. _Special Operations Unit Captain_. Honestly, he did not care, being one of the founders, but it was nice to know others appreciated his efforts.

Sliding on the shirt, he began attaching all of extra gear. Years of service had made him paranoid, and he always felt more comfortable with his gear on. Looking in the mirror in the back, he could see the marks all his years of service had left.

His rigging had several patches where the seamwork could be seen. He was a function over form type of person, so he hadn't cared too much about how it looked, as opposed to just getting it repaired.

His own body however…

A lot of things had changed since 1998. Back then, he had looked more like Piers, but now he was one of the most intimidating figures in the organization. After Jill's fall, he had pushed himself to the point of obsession, working hard every day to push himself just a little bit further.

Clenching his fist, he looked at his muscles. He had yet to meet a person he was weaker than...save for those who carried the viruses. Even during their rematch, Wesker had been able to overpower him in straight combat. It had taken both Sheva and him to take Wesker in melee.

Shaking his head, he dismissed the thought. Worry was reasonable, but he was bordering on anxiety. The thought made him smile; he may have been in mortal peril before, but he still went into with his held high. Finishing up with his uniform, he stepped out into the hall.

"Captain Redfield." The sudden address made Chris turn on point, surprised to find Manuela waiting just beside the door.

"Manuela. Is there something new regarding Bindi?"

"Yes there is. She displayed a new mutation earlier, and she seems to be handling them better," she explained passing a folder to him. He flicked it open, looking at the images. The early ones were easy, with her arm split wide open. He'd seen wounds like that on soldiers, and needless to say, seeing her willingly open them was a little disturbing. But the later pictures were a little harder to tell what was going on.

"Mind telling me what I am seeing?"

"She was able to launch a shard of her bones as a projectile using only her musculature, which then pierced the wall."

"Sounds dangerous. The good news is?"

"She only fired it once, so she seems to know when her limit hits. It also gives us an idea of how good her healing is. She retrieved it and reabsorbed the bone, so she did not replace it fast enough to not need to do so. While it is possible she could grow them back, it did not happen immediately."

"So she is not quite at G-Virus. Levels that is good to know. Still, this is worrying. We'll have to make sure the men are equipped with armour plates. Thanks for the heads up." Chris nodded and was about to turn when Manuela stepped into his path. The look on her face was serious, and Chris could feel her need to talk. "There's something else."

He felt a hand snake around his rigging, sliding something into the space between it and his body. "A message."

Chris nodded slightly. "Thank you for your concern. If anything else comes up, find me."

Manuela nodded, turning and walking away. Chris didn't wait to watch her go, heading to his office. Stepping inside, he locked the door before sitting down. Pulling his rigging, he reached in and pulled out an envelope. It was already opened, and he tilted it, letting the contents drop into his hand. It appeared to be a typed message. Unfolding it, he began reading.

 _Chris,_

 _It's Leon. Overheard you were heading out to Edonia. Simmons also planning to move in. Intel has pinpointed a target of interest: Jake Muller. He is the suspected son of Albert Wesker, and-_

Chris stopped reading for a moment as he processed that. There were no words to describe his emotions. Taking a deep breath, he kept reading.

- _and he is suspected to be immune to the new virus you encountered. Official mission is to bring him in for a cure._

 _Don't trust Simmons. Have the BSAA take Jake in._

 _One more thing; Simmons is sending in Sherry. He went over my head, got the brass in on it. She is in charge of bringing him in. I will attach her radio frequency, and the code word to let her know you are speaking for me. Keep them safe._

 _Leon_

Chris set down the letter, letting the gravity of it set in. Looks like his feelings of anxiety over this mission had been right after all. Even now, Wesker's name was cropping up. The sound of his joints popping made Chris realize he was clenching his fist, and he forced himself to relax.

There was always the potential this kid didn't know anything about his father. If that was the case, there was still hope. Either way, if he did hold the cure, they would want to get him ASAP.

Besides, he did owe Leon. Helping Sherry would be a good start. Picking up the letter once more, he reread the frequency and passcode until he was sure he had it memorized.

Reaching into his desk, he retrieved his old lighter, flicking it open. A little shake confirmed there was still fuel, and he smiled as it sparked, starting up the flame. Holding the paper over it, he made sure it caught before he carried it over to his trash can. It was metal, so it would not catch his whole office on fire. Dropping it in, he made sure the whole thing was smoldering before allowing the lid to close, hiding the ash.

Pulling his radio from his hip, he clicked his team's frequency in as he left the office. "This is Captain Redfield. Report in at the hangar double time."

* * *

"What's the mission Captain?"

Chris regarded his team for a brief moment before turning to Piers. "We're moving on Edonia ASAP. We need to be on the front lines. We will be running a special ops. The nature of this mission will be a secret until we hit the ground. Everyone get equipped and then we'll head out."

"Yes sir!" The team all saluted, scattering in different directions to secure their equipment. Chris took the moment slide out his phone, speed-dialing the BSAA HQ.

"Captain Redfield. What do you need?"

"We need to send in the forces now. We can't wait until the surveillance ops finish. I want people on the ground immediately. My team will be arriving shortly."

"Understood. HQ over and out."

Chris put his phone back as he jogged towards the personnel plane. He heard another set of footsteps moving up beside him and he turned to see Merah. Slowing down, he motioned for her to face him. "I wanted to talk with you. I need you here."

"With all due respect Captain, I think I will be more useful on the front."

"That may be true, but I need someone here on base. There is a potential internal security threat, and I need someone I can trust back in the base. You are the best option. You need to keep an eye out on any suspicious activity, and make sure nothing gets to Bindi, understood?"

"Yes sir. Authorization?"

"Do what you have to, but avoid killing if at all possible." Merah nodded, tucking her pistols into their holsters as she turned, jogging of the hangar.

"Where is she going?" Piers asked as he slowed to a stop beside Chris.

"I needed someone back here, just in case. Come on, we're losing time." Piers seemed satisfied by the answer, following a half pace behind Chris. Chris stood beside the door, ushering his team through the door before hopping in himself, sealing the plane behind him. Stepping into the cockpit, he set down in the pilot's seat, flicking the overheads. "Everyone locked in?"

"You are cleared for takeoff." Chris thanked the operator over his headset, feeling a sense of comfort in the pilot's seat. He didn't get the chance to fly as often as he wanted, but he kept his skills polished.

"Remember, wheels down and we hit the ground running people. Don't get comfy."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Bindi tensed her arms, holding them up like her manual instructed. Breathing quickly, she flicked out her arm, mimicking the form of a strike. At the last moment though, her hand split apart at the seams, the bones within extending in an array of shard, secured by one end. They whistled through the air as the limp appendages cracked like a whip. As she pulled back, the muscles in her hand tensed, and the hand pulled itself back into the proper shape, bones clicking back where they belonged.

A frustrated sigh escaped her as she shook her hand, snapping the last few bones into place. It wasn't fast enough. She couldn't afford to be sloppy. Taking stance again, she tried it again, trying to get the muscles to right themselves faster. She had made great progress early on, but it seemed to be slowing, and reducing it was getting harder and harder.

More irritatingly, she could feel her skin beginning to heat. She would only be able to practice for a bit more before giving it a break. She wanted to reduce the time by so much more before it hit that point.

In some ways, it reminded her of the practice of flagellation; penance and absolution through pain. Even her hand resembled a cat o' nine tails as it lashed the air, and she imagined it would have a similar effect on an enemy. The idea made her smile; her power, given by God, could mimic one of the most infamous forms of punishment.

As she pulled her hand back, the hand refused to snap together, and she growled as she manually held the pieces together, forcing them back together. Guess that meant it was time to give it a break. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she cradled her hand against her stomach, giving it time to knit itself together.

She wondered how long this would go on fort. She could only practice in solace for so long. The thought had crossed her mind that it was all a lie; they had only promised to let her help in order to keep her distracted long enough to figure out what to do with her.

It was not impossible, but they had done so much, and gone through so much for her that it just seemed like too much of an investment. Especially if they were going to teach her to fight. Making her more deadly could just result in it backfiring on them.

It didn't help that there was a mission going on.

When she first heard about it, she didn't think much of it at all. Why should she care after all? But she couldn't help but feel her worry rise, especially after hearing about the fact that the same virus she was infected with was suspected to be involved.

Something about that made her feel angry, like nothing she had felt before. The idea that the same person who infected her could be making more was bitter enough, but she realized there was a real probability that she had been data in testing for the virus itself.

But something deeper made her ire rise. Envy. She hadn't seen what the virus could truly do yet, but if there were creatures that gave themselves to it, they could easily surpass her power, or even Nanan's. The virus had made her stronger, and she had kept her mind. If something new cropped up that she could not beat, it would make them stronger, and her the inferior specimen. She didn't know why that bothered her, but she had resolved to not let that be the case.

Mostly though, it was fear. If they found someone else like her, they could replace her. She was a liability, but there was the chance they found someone more friendly, less risky. And then they would not need her, or Nanan. Then…

The BSAA would never do that. From everything she had heard and seen, they were good people, who believed in helping anyone harmed or threatened by the viruses, including people like her. It was people like Chris that kept it like that.

That was part of the reason she was nervous. Chris was heading the mission. Based on what she had heard, he had the highest success rate of any member of the BSAA, and participated in some of the most important and deadly missions of all time, and come out fine. But he was only human.

She was not.

Standing up, she held her weakened hand to her stomach while lifting the other one. Stretching her hand, she prepared to practice with the other hand. She was just limbering up the muscles when she heard the outer doors open. Surprised, she turned, surprised to see Merah in the lock.

Something was not right. Bindi could immediately tell. Though Merah did not like her in the slightest, there was a sense of bristling anger that surpassed anything she had seen. Add to that the fact that she was being escorted by several guards, and Bindi knew something was going on.

"Come on. We're going to collect your friend. No time to dally," Merah instructed quickly, her posture authoritative. Bindi turned slightly, feeling uncomfortable with the tension.

"What's happening?"

"We're moving you to another facility for the moment," Merah explained, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"Why?"

"I'll tell you on the way. Come on, we need to get moving." Sensing there was no other option, Bindi slowly stepped forward, approaching Merah. As she approached, the other guards stepped aside, sliding into flanking positions.

As they stepped into the airlock, Bindi felt quite claustrophobic. The heavy shields they were carrying didn't help at all, and Merah basically was plastered to her side.

It was then she realized they were protecting her. She had seen this exact formation in her handbook. It was designed to protect an important personnel. "What's the risk?"

Merah glanced at her, as if not expecting the question. She seemed to want to speak, but cut herself off. "I'll tell you once we reach the armoured car."

Bindi had no time to argue as they reached Nanan's enclosure, and the guards parted to allow Bindi to enter first. Despite herself, she felt nervous. Whatever was going on, it was serious.

The door opened, and the form of Nanan rose from her hibernation, turning to look at them. Her tentacles raised for only a moment before she spotted Bindi, settling down. Bindi glanced at Merah, who just motioned for her to bring her over.

"On me!" she half-shouted, using the command they had practiced a couple of times. Nanan obeyed readily, moving in close. Her tentacles came up to embrace, but Bindi shook her head. "Later."

Once they were inside the airlock again, things faded into uneasy silence. The mixture of the guards' boots, and Nanan's slithering was unnerving. They eventually reached a shutter, which made a tremendous clattering noise that set Bindi's nerves on edge as it rolled up.

In a small garage, she could see a pair of armoured vans had already been set up, ready and waiting. Merah began motioning about, giving commands. "Cover all sides! I want people in place! Post that door!"

"Get Nanan in one of the vehicles. You and I will take the other," she added, glancing back as she walked forward, her gun ready. A pair of guards opened the back of one of the cars, and Bindi turned to Nanan.

"You stay in there. I will see you soon. Be good," she commanded softly, watching as Nanan slithered into the opening, disappearing into the darkened back of the car. She barely had time to pause as Merah motioned for her to hop into the other one. Bindi stepped up, with Merah following behind closely. The guards stepped up into the car, closing the door behind them. As soon as the doors closed, Merah rapped her knuckles on the side of the cab, and the vehicle's engine growled into immediate action.

In less time than she had to process it, they were off.

"Here's the situation," Merah said, causing Bindi to snap into focus. "Right now, we are taking you to another facility. One we designed a while ago in case there were ever any people like you. You will be kept safe there until otherwise stated."

Merah sighed, holding her face in her hands. The acton surprised Bindi; Merah had been annoyed or angry before, but this seemed like more than that. "The mission did not go so well. There is a distinct risk they could be after you and Nanan, so we cannot let them get their hands on you. As the commanding officer right now, it is my job to make sure you are safe."

"Wait, isn't Chris the commanding officer?" Bindi asked thoughtlessly. Before she heard the reply, she already felt the answer coming to her.

"Chris is...not available right now. He went AWOL shortly after the end of the mission. Most of the team he was on were killed, and only Piers and him made it out. They were taken for medical attention, but Chris disappeared from the hospital not long after regaining consciousness."

"That's not the end of it, is it?"

"I wish," Merah said sadly, taking her phone out of her pocket. Tapping quickly, she flicked through a few photos. "There was a person responsible for the team's failure. We managed to recover these photos from the body cams."

Merah handed her phone to Bindi, who looked at the pictures with widening eyes.

It was the same woman who infected her.

She was glad Merah took the phone back, because she would have crushed it otherwise. "She used some kind of needle bomb to deliver the infection to the team. It was the same thing you have, but with a few tweaks. They already worked to change it. Even worse, the target we were tracking was lost after the chopper we were extracting it with was taken down by an unidentified B.O.W. There were a lot of things we were not expecting."

Bindi looked numbly at the images as Merah swept through them. Various enemies flashed by her eyes, no two alike. It was her worries materialized. They had everything from giants to bulky monsters, none of which she could make a dent on. She doubted even the most basic ones would be phased by her attacks. Trained teams of professionals had lost to them.

Merah fell silent, leaning back in her seat. Bindi had a thousand questions, but simultaneously felt like asking none of them. She needed time to process this. Everyone did.

* * *

Merah performed a cursory tour of the facility. Neither of their hearts were really in it though, and soon it was just the two of them in Bindi's new room. Admittedly, it was much nicer than her cell, as it was an actual bedroom. Even so, she could see they had gone to great lengths to make it safe, and she had no doubt that it hid several fail safes in it.

Merah wasn't even fully focused on her. Her headset crackled now and again as the teams of guards moved through the facility, making sure all the safety features were running properly. Occasionally she spoke to them, but mostly she was silent.

"So what happens now?" Bindi asked hollowly.

"We stay here and keep you safe," Merah explained with a half shrug, looking away. Though she did not say it, Bindi could tell Merah was angry with her. Bindi couldn't blame her.

Had she been uninfected, Merah would not have been stuck guarding her. Then she could have gone to help Chris. Bindi doubted it would have helped much, especially considering the circumstances, but no doubt it weighed on her mind. And now she was stuck in a building, continuing to guard the same thing that had taken her Captain.

All because she was deemed too weak to defend herself.

"Merah," she said coldly, clenching her fists. The woman looked over at her, an intense look in her eyes. Bindi met the look with her own determined one, standing up. "I need you to teach me how to fight."

Merah was silent for a moment. When she spoke, it was flat, and hollow. "Why on earth should I do that?"

"If you teach me to fight, I can defend myself. Then you can go out and help your friends. That's what you're thinking, right? That I am the reason why Chris is gone?" Bindi knew she was pressing a very delicate subject, but it was her only ticket out.

Neither of them looked away from the deadlock, and Bindi could feel her hand twitch. She was suddenly quite aware of the weapons Merah was carrying. What would happen if Merah decided to just end her? Would she do that?

"Fine. But not today. We need to make sure everything is in place before we can do that," Merah said at last, breaking the lock. "In the meanwhile, I am going to check in with the guards. I would recommend getting rest."

Merah shut the doors behind her, and Bindi could hear the seal tightening. Despite the quaking in her body, Bindi could feel a sense of strength and confidence returning. Soon she could take her fate into her own hands, and become her own arbiter.

When she found the woman who did this to her, she would exact God's own punishment against her.

* * *

That marks the end of this particular story! As you will likely guess, that means the next thing up is RE6, but there are a few notes on that. First off, RE6 was...disappointing. It had some interesting ideas, but just did not pull it off right. While I will be covering the arc, I will be adapting it differently, and taking my own spin on the idea.

This fact, paired with the size of the game itself, means that it will be a bit before I get around to actually writing it. This break also coincides with finals, so it makes sense to take a bit of a pause here to prepare for what will likely be a larger project. Until then, I may put out an occasional extra, but it will depend.


End file.
